


These are Our Moments- These are Our Hearts

by AmbroseRivers



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - PTAtale, Alternate Universe - Reapertale, Alternate Universe - Sailor Moon Fusion, Alternate Universe - Underlust, Alternate Universe - Underswap, Ask Drunk Chara Universe, AsylumTale, Consent AU, Cross! Sans, Dancetale, F/F, F/M, Flowertale - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Multiple ships, PTA! Verse, Read the warnings before each chapter please!, Royal guard au, Soul Mate AU, The Dedicated Scientist/No Fool Universe, Undertale Shipping Pride Month, Underverse, Yanderetale, multiple AUs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-08-12 17:57:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 28,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7943878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmbroseRivers/pseuds/AmbroseRivers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of one-shots for September Undertale Shipping Month. Each day/chapter will be a new ship! Tags and warnings will be updated with each addition. Summaries are at the start of each chapter as well as warnings!<br/>Chapters are marked with either an R (Romantic), P (Platonic/Friendship), or S (Sin/NSFW). AUs will be mentioned at the beginning. Otherwise, the timeline is UT.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Small Comforts (Alphyne)(R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alphys/Undyne. She has regrets and they eat her up but those small comforts help a great deal.

It was dark.

It was darker than dark…and darker still…

This inky blackness that was invading her chest, filling up her lungs, and causing her to shiver. Alphys clutched her lab coat tighter to her body and curled her tail across her feet as she tried to adjust her glasses.

Her limbs were heavy and her attempts merely kept them from falling further down her snout.

She knew- logically- that she was dreaming. That the constriction in her limbs was an illusion and that the cold was only in her head. That her soul wasn’t glowing beneath her clothes or that the syringe in her hand wasn’t dripping…

Wait.

Alphys squeaked and tried to drop the liquid determination but her muscles wouldn’t obey. She tried to thrash her head side to side in vehement protest.

**_No, no, no._ **

**_Not again. I-I-I’m not doing this anymore._ **

And yet she could see herself leaning over the curled form of Mrs. Snowdrake. Her form was curled and the bright blue feathers were limp and soggy at the ends where the snow of Snowdin had rested on and clung to in a protective layer… Now that the ice monster’s magic was almost nonexistent…

_There’s nothing to lose…_

**No! Don’t—**

She wanted to scream out and couldn’t. Nothing escaped her lips as her fingers gently ran along the smooth forehead of Mrs. Snowdrake contemplatively with her free hand and the syringe dripped a single ruby drop.

**Please.**

“I promised to find a way to bring them back. I have to…” Alphys whispered and clutched the syringe harder. “It-it’s the logical thing to do, right?”

_Logic. How she hated that word._

**That’s not logic. That’s desperation masking as logic! You have no idea! Please!**

The determination was glowing brighter as it drew closer to the comatose Snowdrake…

_She still loved science and facts. She was still curious but how could she rely on them- on **logic** \- if she couldn’t…_

_Couldn’t…_

“STOP!” Alphys cried out, jerking upright and her magic spiralled from her form in weak waves. Tears were sliding down her cheeks and her claws shook in the blanket, snagged in the split fabric. Her soul was pulsing rapidly, breath shallow, and she was still for a moment before she began to sob.

She had justified her experimentation and damned her amalgamates to an inferior existence. They had lost their individual forms…their own minds…their identity.

All for emotions masquerading as science.

She deserved to not be forgiven.

She deserved to be fired…

She deserved…

“Hey. Hey.” Undyne’s gruff and sleep roughened voice broken through the thoughts swirling in her head and Alphys felt her fingers being wrenched forcefully out of their clenched fists. “Alphy. C’mon.” The words were low and gentle but there was an edge of a growl that betrayed Undyne’s worry.

“I-I-I – U-U-Undy—S-s-sor…” She couldn’t speak as she was still crying uncontrollably and her vision was blurred and unfocused.

“Shhh, Alphy. I know. It’s okay.” Undyne soothed as she scooped her girlfriend into her arms to place her on her crossed legs. Undyne rocked back and forth slowly, resting her chin on Alphys’ head. Her fingers relaxed and curled reflexively but she fought back the anger that always came when Alphy was hurt and nuzzled her comfortingly.

“I-they-I…”

“Shhh. Just breathe for now.” Undyne responded and pressed a gentle kiss to Alphys’ temple. “We’ll talk about it when you calm down, yeah? I’ll even make some green tea.”

Alphys could feel her breath starting to come easier surrounded by Undyne’s warmth and the soothing vibration of her energetic magic. She buried further into the tight embrace.

“Th-thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't write Alphys or Undyne normally so this was out of my comfort zone... I'm not sure I liked how it turn out but it had me considering Alphy in depth! <3 And Al's name...the letters got switched around in my head and oh my. My brain. XD


	2. An Eye for An Eye (Sans/Frisk)(P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans cares about Frisk. He really does.  
> -Underfell AU-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written for UT Shipping Pride Month but was inspired by this audio posted by Underfellfangame on Tumblr. It was voiced by the amazing crashboombanger. This is the link: https://underfellfangame.tumblr.com/post/149052404796/warning-loud-this-is-the-audio-preview-i-was

Sans had always been…forgiving? Was that the right word? (He didn’t think so but his mind was blank in this moment. This…horrible. Agonizing. Moment. He tightened his grip on his old faithful slugger as they released their grip on his sleeve to take a step forward, opening their arms with a tired smile. Their soul glowed from beneath their frayed sweater.) The moment the kid- _Frisk_ –had stepped into his vision… he had been bowled over by images swirling around him.

Images of himself but looking so different.

His magic had felt so…foreign… in that vision.

It had been an amazingly bright cyan as he had been overlooking the vast expanse of trees from a high cliff. He had been gently tugging Papyrus from the edge (how he knew that…he didn’t know.) He had lacked the heavy chains hanging from the dark collar at his neck, his thick black coat, and the splintered bat that he never forgot but there had been peace.

He had felt the relief permeating his always tired bones.

His bones had itched after that with agitated nervous energy and he _knew_ that he had to protect the kid. The kid had been important in another time forgotten by his world. The little runt could very well be the key to unlocking the secrets of the world’s fallible memory…a missing piece of essential code.

He had been selfish.

But…Frisk… ** _Frisk_** had become so much more. The stubborn sport had made their way though the underground and endured being flayed open by bone spurs, bore dark splotches of purple, singed hair and many more countless injuries to befriend the monsters who were much more ruthless than those they had known.

He hadn’t expected to care for the kid but Asgore be damned, he did. He cared so much that he had let them crawl into his lap when they had stopped in Waterfall to catch a quick nap, warmed by his coat. He cared enough to expose his teleporting ability when Alphys had used a rare burst of her own magic to distract them from Mettaton’s attacks. He cared enough to not sleep for days at a time because he still didn’t fully trust Paps when he said that he would protect them.

He had been right in his hunch. It killed him.

(He regrets asking about the monsters Frisk used to know now as Asgore lowers his helmet with no hesitation and he watches Frisk bend their knees to dodge. Papyrus is beside him, shaking hand raised to his mouth in a rare show of uncertainty. His brother had always been ambitious but had he been so blind all this time? How _fucking dare he…_ )

Those monsters that Frisk had loved…

 _“Those monsters are YOU, Sans. You’re still my family!”_  He could hear Frisk’s soft, quiet words and his breath grew frigid when he heard the cry of pain. Asgore’s trident pinned the kid to the ground and the asshole laughed quietly, slamming his foot down on a tiny ( _so tiny_ ) chest (he could hear the sickening crack of young bones. Oh, gods. Why hadn't he protected them better? Why had he let them leave his side?) and the king wrenched his weapon from the ground to bring it down.

“ ** _Frisk!”_**  Sans screamed and he heard Flowey’s voice echoing his own distantly. “ **Wait!** ”

It was silent for a moment but for the imagined drip-drip-drip of crimson as Sans stared at the stained spikes and Frisk’s ragged, struggling breaths before Sans exploded with an anguished, fury-laced-

“ **NO!** No, no, no... **WHY?!”**

He tightened his grip on his slugger and dug his heel in, preparing to teleport, to charge, to do _something_ but even through the haze of his whirling emotions he saw Frisk’s fingers twitch and he stopped.

They wouldn’t want him to fight.

Of course, they didn’t. Even now, lying broken on the ground as Asgore laid blow after blow on their broken, unmoving body.

“Not again...” His vision flashed between the throne room and Asgore’s crushing white furred feet and back in Snowdin- his brother standing gleefully over Frisk, hand wrapped around his whip as he drug the body through the stained snow. He still remembered even if his brother didn’t. His brother had killed his runt **_again._** He clutched his head.

He could see them carrying Flowey in the bright red boot that had belonged to their Papyrus. The boot they had been hugging before being dumped here. How could his brother…his Papyrus…?

_“He doesn’t know, Sans. Don’t tell him, okay?”_

“ ** _NOT again!”_**

The rush was instant and white-hot. Sans could feel his magic coursing through his bones, skipping along the surface, and **_begging_** to be released. “What have you done, Asgore?” His eye was scorching and he could see the wisps of hands of monsters that had perished at the hands of their ruler… some were wisps of white. Those innocent…He could see Frisk’s soul flickering weakly.

Not a fighter but strong nonetheless. His baby bones sport…

“You… _worthless, heartless…_ ” He was crying now and he didn’t care.

He would kill him.

He would kill Asgore. “Bastard!”  

His hands curled into his palm. He let himself cry as Frisk’s soul finally stopped flickering and drifted away from their corpse. It looked like an empty shell- a muted dull shell. It lacked its brilliance now that its owner wasn’t… wasn’t…

“Look at what Asgore did, Papyrus.” Sans didn’t turn to his brother as he spoke, spinning the bat in his hands and letting the nails scrape his tibia as he did so. The slight sting cleared his head a bit and he smeared the remnants of his tears on his sleeve. “Look at it!” He slammed the bat on the ground to make a point and the sharp _crack!_ echoed through the room.

“Sans…I…I-I didn’t mean for this…” Papyrus stammered in a small, shocked voice. Sans could hear the undertone of his hidden pain and he lowered his head.

The least he could do was pay respects to Frisk.

“I’m sorry, sport. I’m so sorry…I have to break my promise. I told you, didn’t I? I hate making them.” Sans took a breath to wipe away the new tears travelling down his cheek bones. “Ready to have a good time, Asgore?”

_I’ll make him pay for your suffering._


	3. -I Will Choose Happiness over Peace-(Asgore/Toriel)(R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He has been impassive and unresponsive since they lost them but in this moment... he is with her.  
> -AsylumTale AU-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The creator of AsylumTale is furgemancs.tumblr.com/ Please check them out for the main story! <3

She tried her very best not to let his silence and distant, bleary stare bother her too much. He had been like this since they had lost them both. Their precious children.

  
She could still see Asriel’s gentle shining eyes and the way his ears would lift when he was excited and boy- when it came to Chara and their antics his excitement knew no boundaries. He had loved the human with all the affection a monster soul could muster…

  
She and Asgore loved them both more than Chara and Asriel would ever know.

  
Toriel leaned her head against Asgore’s knee, closing her tired eyes. It had been a while since she had done this… when had been the last time? When she had enticed Chara with the promise of sweets for some quiet coloring time? When she had been a sobbing mess, wailing her pain when…

  
The touch surprised her and her shoulders stiffen briefly before relaxing under the familiar ( _missed_ ) heavy paw. Toriel hesitated briefly before she turned her head to press her lips into the white fur.

  
“Hey, honey.” She murmured and nuzzled the hand still resting her jaw, fingers loosely cupping her cheek. “It is a good day for you then, is it not?”

  
She didn’t expect a response but Asgore leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. She knew that if anyone really looked at his horns…they would see a groove carved into the keratin. A physical manifestation of their relationship. He always considered her…and she had done her best to do the same when he retreated into himself.

  
“Tori…” His voice was gravelly and raspy. She heard him pause to clear his throat before he gave her a small, wispy barely there smile.

  
“You...” Her eyes were filling with tears and she fought to keep them at bay. “You don’t have to speak…Gorey.”

  
She felt the rumbles of his silent laughter and wished briefly for the deep, voraciousness that it used to hold. She remembered how it would echo…

  
_Baby steps_.

  
“Take a look, my dear. They sure are something, huh?” Asgore told her, pressing a small kiss to her cheek before his eyes focused on something outside the window of his room. Toriel brought a hand to her cheek to press against Asgore’s ( _please don’t let go_.) as she turned and caught sight of the strange skeleton running down the hall, sleeves of the jacket they had found to help with his seizures undone and an assortment of…was that Frisk’s stuffed yellow flower in his hand?

  
“Oh, dear. I have to-“ Toriel gasped but Asgore’s free arm wrapped around her, tightening around her torso in a tight embrace.

  
“Please…don’t…just watch.”

  
Toriel froze, uncertainty drawing her brows together and puckering her lips. She sighed after a moment and leaned against her husband as Frisk came barreling after Sans with a stuffed white dog in them arms, barking breathlessly as they chased after the residential goofball.

  
A snort escaped her lips as Sans skidded across the tiles, waving his arms to catch his balance. That skeleton had so much energy…He really was a sweetheart when he wasn’t…

  
She blinked as she heard the rumbling behind her, straining her eyes to see Asgore’s head thrown back and a genuine chuckle pouring from his outstretched grin. She clutched the arm across her tightly and pressed a kiss into the sleeve of his purple robe, deciding that she could let Sans and Frisk play a moment longer.

  
She loved her husband enough to chance the destruction of the items in the hall for that small moment of clarity and joy.


	4. -Mine-(Papyton)(R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mettaton is more than a little irritated by his costar's shenanigans.  
> -Undertale Timeline-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by my lovely Lyla because she is brilliant! <3

Mettaton sat motionless in the chair, fighting the urge to fidget under the fingers travelling through his hair- sliding a straightening iron down the locks to fix an errant bump, applying anti-frizz serum, and brushing the strands all at once _and in different directions._

He wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose or to flip his hair in a subtle show of his irritation but he merely smiled pleasantly at the fussing.

It wasn’t their fault he was annoyed…

His teeth clenched together as he took in Papyrus, holding a cup of tea and gesturing excitedly as he talked with his costar. His costar who tilted his head with a sly simper as he laid his fingers across the miniscule gap of bared bone where the black leotard refused to cover beneath the worn red gloves.

Mettaton’s vision swam with crimson and he stood abruptly. The clattering of the hair brush didn’t register nor did the pained gasped of the assistant who had braved the heat of the hair iron as he smoothed his hands down his pink chassis before lifting his chin and strutting toward Papyrus and that… _man._

Papyrus was his, damn it! He didn’t sit through literal _hours_ of various anime genres to convince Alphys to persuade Undyne to let Papyrus be his body guard during this shoot for nothing! He had been _ready_ to make the tall, lanky, happy skeleton **_his_ today.**

His teeth were clenched so painfully that he was partly surprised that the small circuits weren’t sparking under the pressure and as he approached…

“I-I’m very flattered, human. I really am…” Papyrus’ bones were flushed orange as he rubbed his cervical vertebrae, pulling away from the light touch on his wrist. “B-But I actually have my eye on someone…”

“Oh?” Jack hummed and popped his hip out, winking flirtatiously. “Anyone I know?”

“W-well…” Papyrus wrung his hands together now in a telltale sign of his uncomfortableness and embarrassment.

“Yes, you do, darling~” Mettaton interrupted and wrapped his arms around Papyrus’ waist, leaning his cheek on the white battle body possessively. “It’s me.”

“I don’t think-“

“I-it a-actually is Mettaton…” Papyrus stuttered as he draped his own arms loosely around the robot, shaking. “Like I said thank—mmpf!”

Papyrus never did know when to stop talking.

Good thing Mettaton knew the perfect solution.


	5. -Unspoken: I Love You-(Sans/Toriel)(R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Goddess of Life travels to the land of the Dead to bring him a present.  
> -ReaperTale AU-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. This is fresh of the presses. It is currently 7AM and I closed last night but I'm trying to make sure I stay on track. This may be confusing to read (I'm sorry) PLEASE be gentle- constructive criticism is welcome but rudeness is not. <3 The creator of the Reapertale Universe is renrink.tumblr.com/ (I LOVE THIS PAIR AND AU SO MUCH. ARGH.)

She pulled the edge of her yellow cape closer as she stared at the gates to his realm. He had warned her many times that she would not like it and… he had been right.

It could have passed for beautiful, Toriel supposed. The grass was green, blades shimmering in a breeze that should not have been possible in the cavern and filled with the white flowers with the pink stained petals. The air was heavy with the unpleasant stench- clinging to her airways and cloying into a thick lump.

Toriel coughed, lifted a fabric-covered hand to her snout.

_Damn._

The lump was still in her throat and she had yet to see Sans. Toriel’s lips stretched into a small smile as she continued forward, pressing her left free hand to the satchel that carried the small treasure she had created into her side. It had taken her quite some time to puzzle out how to best go about making Sans another gift that will not wilt away at his touch…

Toriel didn’t notice that she clutched the bag a bit tighter as she thought.

_It had to be perfect. After all…_

She blushed.

_He said I had to initiate the courting, didn’t he? That bone head._

Toriel’s quiet laughter shook her chest and then her lungs seized up painfully and spasmed. She hacked into the cape, trudging through the crumbled stone arch way. Her eyes watered and the image she held of the meadow blurred.

_He’s here. I can feel him. I just need to…_

She forced herself to keep on- placing one foot in front of the other slowly, muscles quivering. She could feel the tiredness starting to weigh down on her bones.

Why?

Toriel let out a surprised squeak as her foot plunged into water. Her gown was soaked and the moisture was starting to seep into her fur but she didn’t mind. She loved nature. In fact, she could drink the water and maybe clear out her throat some.

She bent down and cupped her hands, letting the water pour into them like a goblet.

_“What the occasion, Life?” Sans questioned her as she took a sip (truthfully, it was a mouthful) of the sweet Ambrosia. He was lounging, hovering above one of the tree branches closest to where she was sitting cross-legged on the ground._

_Her laugh was hollow and dead as she raised her eyes to him._

_“Today is a particular god’s birthday.” Her fingers tightened on the silver goblet as she pictured Asriel’s gentle eyes and lopsided genuine grin. “He…he isn’t around anymore.” The last word was whispered and she sighed deeply, ears lowered in her sorrow and tears making a jagged path down her cheeks._

_Sans was sitting in front of her now and he gripped the edge of his sleeve. He twisted the fabric between the digits of his phalanges before reaching out to smear the evidence of her pain away. He was always careful not to touch her directly (not like it would matter, really- he couldn’t kill her without his scythe.) but she appreciated the gesture._

_“Tell me about him.” Sans murmured and reached for the alcohol._

“ ** _Don’t!_** ” Something crashed into her and suddenly, arms were enveloping her, crushing her and-

The world spun and the colors melted like paint on a canvas, blending together, muting, dulling, until the picture was lifeless and waxy. She was still in the river but now she could see the swirls of cloudiness in it. She inhaled sharply and coughed and coughed and coughed.

“Jeeze, Tori. You shouldn’t have come.” Sans spoke without any true heat behind his words as he smoothed his hand over the top of her head soothingly. “This place isn’t meant for you and drinking from Lethe…” His voice trailed off and she felt herself being drawn closer to him, wrapped up in his chaotic magic. “Here. This will help you breathe.”

A gold goblet was pressed against her mouth and she opened it. She drank and drank and drank. Why was she so thirsty?

“Easy. Easy, Tori.” His voice was amused but still held a sharp edge to it. He pulled the goblet away and shook his head at the whine she didn’t have any control over. “You wandered into the Meadow.”

The Meadow? Now her yearning for water made sense. The flowers were meant to entice spirits to drink from Lethe and shed their memories of their Earthly existence.

Toriel couldn’t help but shudder. She had almost lost herself.

“S-Sans…I…” She licked her lips, feeling like they were dry and she cleared her throat. “I came because I brought you something.”

“That is not important right now. I need to get you away from he—“

“Please, Sans. It means a great deal to me.” She insisted and brought the bag into her hands. She squeezed the fabric for a moment, hesitating before opening it and taking out the coral sphere she had ground down and polished. She turned it over in her hands quietly before holding it up for Sans to see the delicate dandelion she had worked to wedge into its protective casing. The delicate thing was surrounded by her own spells so that it would stay alive inside its new home and she had made more glass with her fire magic to seal it away.

Sans was silent.

“I-I thought…” Toriel stammered, cheeks growing rosy. “Coral is formed by fossilized skeletons so I thought who better to have it than you? I mean…” Did that come out wrong? What should she say? She hadn’t been this deeply in love with someone since…

No. She didn’t think she had even loved Asgore this much.

“It’s alright if you don’t want it. It was just a silly…” Great now she was rambling. She the Goddess of Life, the harbinger of new souls, was keeping on like a fool.

She felt Sans shaking and quieted, rolling her gift on her palms. Then she felt Sans rest his chin against her head.

“Hey Tor? Have you heard about the _current_ events?”

“What?” Toriel blinked as she raised her head to look him in the eyes.

Sans leans down to bump his teeth against hers in a gentle kiss. “Life, you sure are something.”


	6. -You Scratch My Back and I'll Scratch Yours-(Mettaton/Muffet)(P/S)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This alliance could be the best thing with many benefits for her...  
> -YandereTale AU-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may notice I marked this platonic and sin. The reason being that YandereTale is for 18+ so yeah. These are your WARNINGS: This piece contains mention of violence, planned sexual assault, and abuse. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.  
> The creator of YandereTale is ammazolie.tumblr.com/ and the blog is for 18 and over ONLY.

When her little darling (her favorite spider aside from her sweet Dulce) came skittering up her cane without warning, waving their front two legs excitedly…she knew that _something_ was going to happen. She didn’t expect to hear news that the pretty boy robot was on the door step to her shop with his messy raven locks pulled back by a pink ribbon.

_Oh. This could be **interesting.**_

Muffet raised a hand to her mouth and giggled into her palm, bending down to press her lips against her darling.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I think this could be…” Muffet scraped her dark fingernails over the diamond she had procured the last time the two visited. She licked her lips. The memory of the oil that served as his blood sliding down her skin giving her pleasant shivers. Perhaps, she should try her newest concoction on him…

She would wait because it might be one of the beneficial visits. One that could help her get more gold or a fresh toy…

Muffet took her time making her way through her shop, fingers trailing over the shelves lovingly. Her little babies skittered eagerly to touch her as she passed. Their tiny whispers of “Maybe she’ll let us bury in him!” or “A new treasure! More diamonds!” or “Our Queen!” surrounded her and made her stand straighter as she finally reached the door.

To open it a crack.

_Never can be TOO careful. He is capable._

“Mettaton.” She singsonged cheerily. “To what do I owe this pleasure, dearie?”

“Muffet! Long time no see.” He returned her carefree tone with a wink and a charming lilt, thrusting his pelvis out in an arrogant show of self assuredness. “I have a proposition for you… shall we discuss it inside?”

Muffet paused, fingers resting on the syringe strapped to the inside of her thigh. She tilted her head and fought down the urge to bite her lips in an old nervous habit that still hadn’t disappeared from before this world became a literal free-for-all. She watched as Mettaton kept his gaze on her and she flipped her hair behind her shoulder.

“A proposition? You have me curious.” She answered and opened the door fully. “However… you will have to lose the clothes. Can’t take to many chances.”

Mettaton ground his teeth but he gave a nod of agreement before crossing the threshold of the shop. He immediately let his blue jacket fall from his shoulders before bending down to unzip his pink boots. Muffet licked her lips at the sight- letting her eyes trail down the toned calves and amazing ass ( _she would never admit it aloud but damn- it had felt exquisite crushing the metal beneath her fingertips when he struggled against her. Her fingertips itched thinking about it.)_

“Are you done?” Mettaton grumbled as he kicked his boots aside and toed off his socks.

“Of course.” She answered easily and flashed her teeth. “Just admiring the view, dear. Care to tell me what you need?”

“I need your help luring YanYan to me.”

_Oh._

**_Oh._ **

She (and the whole Underground) knew of Mettaton’s little…crush on the tall, bitchy skeleton. YanYan was one of the only monsters that were either avoided or left alone because of his little “gift”.

Mettaton must be pretty desperate for a piece of that ass to ask for her services.

“Got it bad, don’t you, Metta?” Muffet couldn’t help but tease him a bit. This was too good.

“No. I have always wanted what is out of my grasp.” Mettaton growled as he gripped the hem of his shirt, hesitating a moment and shimmying closer to the door so his back wasn’t exposed before yanking it up and over his head.

“If you say so~” Muffet waved a hand as she turned her back on him, ears twitching and listening to her spiders voices. They were her look outs. She needn’t worry. “If I _agree_ to help you…I only ask that I be able to use him to make a little profit. After you're done, of course.”

She could earn a pretty penny if she got her hands on YanYan long enough to sedate him and rub some of her Love Poison No.13 on his skinny dick.

Fuck if she wanted _more_ … she could have him form that pretty little pussy of his. She knew plenty who would _kill_ to have his juices smeared across their face. She highly doubted that if he was a bit resistant (but weak enough to overpower) that a little bloodshed wouldn’t be a problem for a chance to pound him and make him scream…

Muffet felt herself smile as Mettaton shadowed her.

This tentative alliance that was forming could be the best thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one. I promise that they'll get longer when I am not the closer and have to be back at work at 11AM. UGH.


	7. -Missing Puzzle Piece-(Sans/Alphys)(R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are pieces missing from their reality and now- in the limbo between resets- Sans can see them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...This was written for Sans/Alphys day but it turned into Sans/Alphys/Papyrus/Undyne. If you are not into poly romantic situations, I suggest you skip this one. There are light tones of Fontcest but not heavy action (no sin in this one!) I don't even know what happened with this chapter...it kind of...got away from me. I'm not sure how I feel about it but please enjoy!

_He is floating with his eyes open as his world crumbles beneath his feet. He can’t help but feel the ghost of laughter bubbling in his chest as he stretches his phalanges upwards, caressing the inky blackness. He isn’t scared… how could he be when he sees the timelines that have slipped through the world’s fingers like sand? There were microscopic marks, minuscule ticks, impressions of how things used to be. Now he can see the complete picture- precious memories of what used to be._

_He has succumbed to dust, he knows. He is dead._

_He’s lost the fight for the nth time._

_Sans closes his eyes and his essence reaches out to tap into whatever piece of the cosmos that forgotten memories drift away to._

He’s younger. He’s gazing at the man who speaks in hands with a mischievous twinkle in his eye when she walks in. She’s still shy- tugging at the scratchy new lab coat that is given to the newest interns but his gaze focuses on the headband with a pretty green bow.

He can’t say that it was love at first sight but… he knew that Alphys would join the ranks of his precious people.

_Sans sighs as his awareness drifts back into the darkness that is somehow a bit lighter._

He is in black sweatpants, an oversized t-shirt with a lovingly scrawled “Nap Bro”. He’s laughing as Alphys leans forward and Papyrus mimics her actions with a hand under his chin as he hums thoughtfully, tapping the book between them.

“The particles can occupy the same space and yet be in separate spaces?” Papyrus questions and leans back, curled fingers pressing into the striped carpet of their living room floor. “What a great puzzle! I shall have to think about it…”

Undyne is behind his brother and she huffs, fingers drumming agitatedly against Papyrus’ femur from her position behind him. Her arms are wrapped around his waist and she presses her chin into the bright yellow shirt covering his shoulder.

“So it’s kind of like the cat one? Right, Alphy?” Undyne’s eyes dart to Alphys who stretches, tail elongating and pushing against his tibia.

“It’s similar…” Alphys giggles and flops back to wedge herself between his outstretched legs. “Schrodinger’s cat is like… when you see a person in the guard with a weapon, you don’t know if they're an enemy until you actually engage them. Until then they are just-“

“A punk!” Undyne can’t help her excited outburst and Sans lets his mirth spill from him. He lifts a hand to run his fingers through fiery hair gently and Alphys twittered, hand pressed to her snout. Papyrus’ “Nyeh heh heh!” overpowers their sounds of happiness and Papyrus rubs Al’s foot slowly. It twitches at the gesture.

“It’s getting pretty late…” Sans says as Alphys rubs her eyes and Papyrus yawns. “We should…”

“I agree, brother!” Papyrus raises his head to nuzzle Undyne’s cheek before folding his body to lay beside Alphys to kiss her cheek.

_Sans is yanked from the (memory? Illusion?) missing fragment viciously- an angry green energy skittering across his bones. He blinks slowly as an image of Undyne materializes… her yellow eyes glowing and overfilling with tears. She reaches for him and envelops him._

_“You…you came back first?” Sans is surprised._

_In this…this detached pocket of time…Usually Papyrus appears first and as soon as he perishes._

_“You…you asshole…you didn’t tell me that—that all of us were…”_

Alphys and Undyne are screeching indignantly at the screen in the living room and Sans huffs exasperatedly with papers messily spread across the kitchen table, overflowing onto the floor covered in messy illegible scrawls (Alphys) and lazy clunky letters (his own). He can’t help resting his palm against his left eye.

His skull is throbbing and the current of his magic feels sluggish in his bones. He shudders, fingertips digging into the socket.

_Don’t think._

Sans jumps as claws swipe out to push more papers onto the floor and he has a second to prepare before his arms are pinned to his sides and he is yanked into the air. His magic reacts to the crushing grasp and he feels his body goes lax.

“Undy—“ Sans tries to sound stern but even he can hear the exhaustion slowing his speech and causing him to slur slightly but his feisty warrior cuts him off.

“Al told me to come get you.” Undyne informs him as she strides towards the living room with him in tow. “You need a break. You have been working even more than Papyrus!”

“I…”

“Even Paps says you need one. He has some hot tea waiting for you…”

_The lightening blackness erupts into sudden white and Sans is still wrapped up in Undyne’s embrace. He smiles at the red-gloved hand that is thrust into his face and he wriggles a bit to be able to grasp it in a crushing grip._

_“Hey…” His voice is raspy and Undyne is starting at Papyrus with a pained grimace. Papyrus just gives them both a beaming smile before clanking his teeth against Undyne’s cheek and Sans forehead._

_“I forgot, Paps… How could I…?” Undyne’s growl filled the space between the three of them._

_“I know. I did too but we remember now!” Sans loved Papyrus so much. He was the most hopeful of out them all._

_Sans fingers tightened on Undyne’s armor as they drifted apart from reality. He loved these moments because his beloveds would remember…but he loathed it._

_Because it wouldn’t be perfect until…_

He stays silent as she eases into his side, keeping his eye sockets close when he feels his arm being lifted slowly, slowly, slowly… Sans chuckles and grabs Alphys. She lets of a squeak and covers her flushed cheeks embarrassedly.

“Sans!”

_Until they all remembered. Until they were all together…_

_Either Papyrus was slain. Undyne murdered. Or he was dusted._

_Alphys would be left in the world to try and lead a fruitless evacuation until time rewound._

_Or Alphys… took her own life._

_While they lived._

_Nothing would be right until she was here. In their arms._


	8. -Not Ours But Ours The Same-(Frisk/Asriel)(R or P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't their first dance but it's different.  
> -DanceTale AU-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm a bit behind but I felt a bit under the weather for the past couple of days- hopefully I can either catch up or be only a day behind! This AU is was created by teandstars.tumblr.com and the main blog is dancetale.tumblr.com  
> This can read either platonically or romantically. Choose at your leisure. <3

This…

This isn’t the first time they have danced together.

Frisk bent at the waist and lowered their torso, left hand reaching to smooth across the stiff and flatter tutu Toriel had made for this occasion. They missed the soft scratch of their tutu beneath their fingertips but when Asriel’s ears twitched in a silent show of his own uncomfortableness, Frisk lifted their gaze and gave a smile.

They both needed this.

“ _Asriel,”_ Frisk called softly as they pushed their soul into the open space between them. It swirled and twirled in jerky movements in the air. “Dance with me…” They bowed lower, knees shaking. The blood was rushing in their ears, pounding out an erratic staccato beat as Asriel stood frozen.

_“Hmph. I don’t dance, idiot.” Flowey sneered, undulating his body and extending his leaves aggressively. “Let me show you what I can do though!”_

_Even if Flowey couldn’t move- Frisk learned those bullets were no joke as Chara’s not-really-there fingers pressed cold spots into their flesh to guide their body._

Asriel’s emerald eyes darted to the small audience they had invited to witness this intimate moment and Frisk pursed their lips before sighing in fond exasperation, eyes softening patiently.

“Azzie.” Frisk murmured and Asriel’s attention was immediately on them. “You and me-just us. Dance.”

Then the one who had taken them the longest to save…the monster they had refused to give up on…and the one they had withstood judgement for time and time again…he bowed. The air crackled as Asriel’s snowy soul joined the crimson one waiting for it.

Finally…

Frisk took a breath and moved.

_It was wrong._

This wasn’t **their** dance- these moves so like their own but not. Frisk’s muscles tightened as they let themselves be pushed by an imaginary hand - ghost of a corrupted angel that was no longer there - and caught themselves on their hands, springing backwards, and trusting Asriel to catch them as memories sparked between them.

_“You’ve come back, Chara!” Flowey’s leaves twisted excitedly, eagerly in graceful movements (he was almost dancing!) and Frisk feels a pang of muted hurt. “I’d recognize those moves any where!”_

_Frisk feels Chara lift their body’s foot and feels them grab their foot to lower their torso in a mockery of a bow. There is anger searing their soul- smoke curling around their nonexistent lungs, heat scorching the surface, and Frisk is crying out to Flowey… trying to warn him of Chara’s intense hate._

**_Move, move, move._ **

_Chara pauses, springs back and pirouettes._

_Only Frisk can feel the venom that goes through Chara’s system but takes a short-lived breath as Toriel’s fire erupts between Chara and Flowey._

Asriel’s shoulders are stiff as he dances, meeting Frisk’s twists and leaps with his own slides and hand springs that lead him away. He has a brief thought that he should have asked Sans to help him because really…this was _his_ main dance and Mettaton didn’t have the same technique and…

Asriel slips and his arms wrap around Frisk immediately, slipping into his own style. He spins them around in his arms before letting go- his soul glows brightly in response to his pain and another memory slips between them…

_The Judge stands before him, eye alight with blue flames and he feels nothing. Well…That’s not it exactly. He feels something but it’s nearly silent underneath the numb nothingness, the insanity tugging at his mind because of endless repetition, and buried agony._

_Flowey cackles and twists mockingly._

_How can Sans hurt him if Flowey can’t dance? There are no moves to reciprocate or crackling of essences in the air but the lonely bright cyan of the skeleton before him._

_There is nothing in this world for either of them._

_Flowey’s grin fades for a second as Chara’s ruby eyes and comforting dance springs into his mind. He remembers how it felt to share his magic…To have your soul fall into line with another._

_Vines raise around him as Sans takes his position, arms stretched out in a manner Flowey recalls._

_Neither bows._

_It’s funny, Flowey thinks as he growls- they are both paying homage to people they loved._

Frisk feels the tears pouring down their face and Asriel’s eyes mirror their own.

_I’ve killed._

**_I imposed kill or be killed._ **

_I’m sorry. It took me so long._

**_You withstood the Judge for me. You came back for me._ **

_I will always come back for you._

**_When I see your face…sometimes…it’s Chara._ **

_I know._

**_But I-_ **

_But I-_

“I would do it again.” Frisk speaks, quiet cadence echoing what is thrumming through their bond. They shed the dance of Chara and fall into their own, leaping toward Asriel.

Asriel smiles gratefully and catches Frisk to sweep them into a waltz.

“I love you.” He whispers.

 _I love you_. Frisk’s soul echos.


	9. -Cowardice and Honor-(Papyrus/Undyne)(P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this timeline, Undyne has her heart stolen by Papyrus. She will save him.  
> -UnderSwap AU-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had an idea when I was thinking of what to write for Undyne/Papyrus... What if Undyne became the CARETAKER of the skeleton brothers in UnderSwap? That could explain some of the changes in Papy and Sans. Because in any iteration (for me), Undyne would adore Papy and Papy would look up to Undyne! THIS is what came of that idea. It is a platonic piece. <3

Undyne grumbled as she flopped further into her chair, reaching her arms up and groaning at the way her sore back muscles tightened and the painful cracks of her vertebrae. She blinked her eyes blearily, squinting at the smudged darkness. There was a quiet creak of protest from her seat and a low growl slipped from her throat as she slumped forward over the work bench.

_I need a new damn chair. Can’t get a good stretch in!_

Undyne huffed. She tugged on the loose hair tie and comb her fingers through the bright locks, untangling the knots slowly. She had fallen asleep working the latest report for Kawa… on the experimentation of what would conditions of controlled hopelessness have on a monster’s overall HP.

She couldn’t help but shut her eyes tightly to listen to the quiet snores floating through the room. Undyne let her fingertips tap across the multitude of papers scattered haphazardly across her desk, searching for her glasses.

_I’m going to save you._ The thought seared across her mind like a comet- bright, furious, and leaving a trail of iciness in her chest in its wake. Her claw clinked against glass and Undyne lifted her glasses to her face, taking in the cooled tea placed carefully in a clear spot of her desk…out of reach of flailing limbs.

She giggled fondly and glanced at the awkwardly curled up forms occupying the makeshift pallet made of worn blankets on her floor. Papyrus was curled around his brother protectively- the orange and yellow-striped shirt was faded and ripped in places. Undyne’s eyes trailed across minute cracks in the radius, the bone dimples that were evidence of injections… her stomach rolled uneasily.

_“Don’t get too attached.” Kawa had warned her, swiping the black hood back from her face and smoothing her hands down her lab coat. “The tall one agreed to this. In exchange, we will make sure that his brother is taken care of. If I have to, I will find another intern.”_

She didn’t care anymore.

Papyrus and Sans didn’t deserve this…

Papyrus’ HP had already dropped to three and if she didn’t find a way…

He could very well die before he even had a chance to live…because she had been a coward.

Undyne barely noticed that she had picked up the tea or that the mug had shattered in her hands from her grip. All she could see was the exhausted smile of that young face, the unresisting easiness with which Papyrus let them manipulate his body, and the impish cackle that would appear when she gaped at his uncanny ability to find her candy stash.

The way his posture would straighten, teeth grinding, when Sans would stumble into the examination room by accident, scooping the other up and nuzzling him. How his orange magic would spill down his cheeks when they injected him with the serum. How he would groan and whine but refuse to scream when his magic would react violently.

How he would reach for her in his pain…

How Sans was his priority…

How he would climb into her lap and paw curiously at her textbooks… (His favorite had been the quantum mechanics book she had salvaged from the dump. That day had been nonstop questions, pleads for explanations, and attentive, sleepy eyes.)

How it had been easier to laugh since he came into her life…

Undyne clenched her fingers into a fist, numb to the pain of the glass digging into her palms.

She would save them even if she had to die trying. 

For Papyrus’ sake.

 


	10. -As Wishes Fade-(Burgerpants/Nice Cream Guy)(R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Frisk, before the resets...The people of the Underground are starting to lose hope. Echo flowers only tell a piece of their story.  
> -Undertale Timeline-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was inspired by the conversation you "hear" in the Echo Flower fields when you play through so...

He raises a paw up to his eyes and swipes the pads across them as he yawns, ears lowering. It’s his last day off…it should have been the day he could laze on his balcony, smoke swirling around him in a halo, and waiting for his friends get off their guard duties so they could hang out. Instead he is here with him- a blush spreads across his face- as his eyes dart to the bunny monster beside him, pushing his cart patiently through the water.

“Burgy?” His companion speaks and Burgerpants can’t help the irritated flick of his ear at the nickname but he hums in acknowledgement, shifting the umbrella under his arm.

“Yeah, Creamy?” Burgerpants speaks after a moment, letting the childhood nickname roll off his tongue effortlessly. It melts on his tongue- sweet like his friend’s temper, cool and refreshing- reminding him of days spent darting in the snow of a town far away, comforting like the warm hugs Creamy gave him when they were in school. His lips twitch upwards of their own accord but when he is greeted with silence, he cranes neck to peek over his shoulder.

Creamy is standing still, hand resting on his cart lightly and eyes lifted to the muted glitter of the clear crystals embedded in the ceiling.

“Do you ever think about the wishes we used to make?” The question seemed to fill the whole cavern, pushing away the oxygen he needs, and Burgerpants clutched the hem of his leather jacket with his free hand tightly. His claws press through easily and the thought of _I’ll need to fix that, damn._ floats through his head before he can catch a breath.

_Why, Creamy? Why now?_

“I…” He tries to speak, pauses, before laughing. “I used to. I would think about it a lot back when I moved to the capital.”

Creamy’s fingers flex around the smooth bar he is holding for a moment and Burgerpants watches him inhale, long floppy ears lifting and chest expanding. Creamy shakes his head before flashing a sunny smile at him.

Burgerpants can almost ignore the tears building in the corner of those eyes but he would never do that.

_I don’t think about wishes anymore because we aren’t ever getting out._

_I don’t believe in Asgore anymore._

_I feel so old and I’m only nineteen, Creamy. I’m so tired._

He doesn’t say any of the thoughts swirling through his mind but he opens his arms. Creamy doesn’t hesitate ( _he never has_ ) and lets go of his cart to clutch him, burying his face into the worn fabric on his shoulder. His Creamy is crying softly and he can feel his soul reaching out to comfort the other.

“Hey, Creamy. It’s okay.” The words are stiff, saturated in uncertainty, and Burgerpants stiffen as the sobs grow louder. His heart is thudding painfully against his chest. “Sora, come on, please…” Creamy’s name slips from him unbidden and he is swaying in the water slowly. “So…”

Man, he has always sucked at comforting other monsters. Maybe he could…

“Don’t you have a wish to make?”

“Hmm…” Creamy sniffs and presses his right palm to his eye, flattening the tufts of fur there. “just one but…” Burgerpants squeaks as his forehead is pressed against his friend’s. “It’s kind of stupid, Kei.”

Hearing his name from Sora’s mouth has him shaking uncontrollably and his hands refuse to still as he raises them to Creamy’s cheeks.

“You sure are…something.” Kei lets the words escape him on a whoosh of exasperated breath. “Let’s get the cart and we can continue this conversation while we walk…”


	11. -Only in Our Dreams Do We Meet-(Grillby/Gaster)(R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn't remember. He is content and yet...  
> -Undertale Timeline-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am determined to finish what I started, damn it. I was following the set order but now I will post as it comes to me. I hope you enjoy! Thank you all for the reviews and kudos <3

If you asked the owner of the little restaurant in Snowdin how he would describe the life he’s made, you would get the gentle crackle of his flames and an almost silent smoke-filled laugh. If you’re lucky, Grillby might even open up about the surface- voice rising and falling in a cadence known only to those made of the elements as he murmurs about the way beads of water would gather on blades of grass in the morning, or how the sky seemed to go on for an eternity and when it was dusk- the crystals in the cavern would never compare, or, or, or…

The list was endless of the things Grillby could talk about.

His time in the war had shaped him to appreciate the most miniscule of things… even in this crowded and damp prison. He had forged a home in one of the least populated areas, established a reputation for being kind (he never admitted when he closed his eyes- he could see the faces of the young ones that his magic had consumed, bright souls twisting and dancing with his flames…it made him sick. Even now.), and had found an unlikely friend in a skeleton with slouched shoulders and a strained grin.

His life was far from ideal but…

He was content.

Sometimes, though…sometimes…his hands would brush against the spare frames in his bedside table (they were much too small- why did he have them?) or the glimpse of the white coats of visiting scientists would spark…something. It was like the ghost of pain… intense but barely there, a cold stone on his chest and yet it burned his throat…

He didn’t know what to make of it- that there but not there pain.

It was only when he dreamed of jagged cracks, a small smile on a tired face, and a tall lean body wrapped in that coat pressed against his…that’s when he would wake and clutch his arms, boiling trails of his essence running down his cheeks.

He was content and nothing was missing in this life of his… so why was he missing an illusion?


	12. -I Will Be Better. For You.- (Sans/Grillby)(R/S)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He hadn't been ready for the responsibly but the rules had to change. It took seeing his sweetheart in that situation to open his eyes.  
> -Underlust AU-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT. This is marked sin because hi, hello, have you met Underlust? XD The original creator is nsfwshamecave.tumblr.com/ (The blog is for 18+ ONLY.) and this piece took me FOREVER to decide on... I have always wondered what would make Sans take up the mantle as Judge since Frisk teaches the monster about consent (If I recall correctly?)...I thought maybe lines were blurred. Hm...  
> Anyway on with the chapter. Sorry for rambling!

Sans had a problem.

Well, that wasn’t accurate… Sans had many problems but those were currently overshadowed by the one currently standing in front of him- all elegant limbs, quiet confidence, and a teasing smirk as he held out a hand to him.

Man, those ketchup shots were getting to him. His vision warbled slightly and blurred pleasantly at the edges. He was starting to think he may have another small problem to add to his list.

His grin stretched into a rare smile, free of amorous intent. What was Grillby up to?

“Grillbz?” Sans questioned his friend uncertainly, pressing his gloved hand on the smooth bar top in front of him.

“Come on, Sans. Why don’t we dance, hmm? You are quite good.” Grillby’s smooth rumble had him fighting to control the shiver threatening to rattle his bones. It had been years since that had happened. He was a skilled lover now… he couldn’t count how many times he had been buried between Alphys’ legs, or giving Undyne a run for her money trying to dominate him, or…

There were so many “Ors”, so many orgasms that had been smeared across his face, dripping down his cock, his tongue…

So many except the one who made his bones sing with desire and his heart flutter.

Fuck. He hated it.

Sans’ phalanges gripped the counter tighter and he closed his eye sockets for a brief moment as his heart sank and he prepared himself to say “No.”

He couldn’t do it tonight. He couldn’t pretend and smile.

When he opened his eyes, the sight there killed the nice buzz that had enveloped his senses and Sans growled. Aaron had drifted across the club to dig his _fucking_ hands into the fire elemental’s waist and pull him close, slimy tail curling upwards in a makeshift shield as he dragged his hands **lower.**

Sans wasn’t the only one who was angry. Grillby’s hair had risen from its carefully placed style and swirled in a show of his emotions.

“I suggest you let go.” Grillby ground out as he curled his fingers into a fist. “There is a ‘no touching’ ru-“

“That applies to the dancers. Not to _you.”_ Aaron purred and slithered closer. “I don’t think I’ve seen you out from behind the bar…” Aaron’s snout had pressed closer to Grillby and for a moment, Sans thought he saw worry flitter across the other's in the slight twitch of his mouth.

That. Was. It.

His bones erupted from the floor. Aaron’s paws immediately left Grillby as he sprang back and his eyes darted to the skeleton.

“I believe…” Sans hummed nonchalantly as he tugged his leather glove upwards to tighten it on his hand. “The man said no.”

Aaron snorted, nostrils flaring as his hands spasmed opened and closed.

_How dare this asshole cock block me!_

“Aaron…” A bubbly voice reached his ears and he felt breasts press into his arm as furry arms wrapped around his bicep. “I wouldn’t mess with Grillbz. That’s Sansy’s boy~” He looked at the eternally flushed cheeks of Usa and the way her ears twitched across her back, hoop earrings clinking against each other mutedly. That made his blood boil even more.

“Butt. Out.” Aaron stressed to the bunny before shaking her loose. Grillby’s flames rose higher at the dancer’s yelp. “When has that ever mattered?”

Sans eye flared brightly and he took a step forward. Usa’s eyes flicked to him with fear and he shot her a small smile, nodding to the stage.

“Go finish your dance, Usa.” Grillby commanded gently and without a second thought, she fled.

“Let me let you in on a secret…” Sans forced his shoulders to relax as he spoke. He rubbed the hem of his purple jacket idly before he let it slip off his shoulders. “It. Fucking. Matters.”

_“I’m not ready for the responsibility.” He had muttered as he sat on the bench in the only secluded spot in the Underground. “I’m not ready because that means I have to follow the rules too. I don’t want to…but…”_

**The rules needed to change. This couldn’t go on.**

“When someone says no,” Sans whispered and his magic bounced wildly across the surface of his bones. It was almost too much…the way his magic was responding, twisting, shifting… He watched as Aaron’s eyes went wide. He held up his hands and whined.

The coward.

Sans glanced to his left and looked at the form his magic had taken. It was massive, humming, as it seemed to wait for his command- maw spread wide and an abyss of his cyan magic swirling inside. He had to chuckle at the burst of purple hearts that sizzled and disappeared periodically.

He had to admit that it was…something to behold.

“I’m sor-“ Aaron started and Sans rose his hand slowly, experimentally. The canon followed his movement lazily and rested on Aaron for a moment.

_I could do it._

_I could…_

“Sans.” Grillby’s voice reached him. It seemed to warble and Sans focused his attention on him. “I think that’s enough. Please.”

Sans hesitated for a single second but as he watched Grillby’s fingers come to tug at the torn fishnet shirt in a show of his nerves, he let his magic scatter.

“Get out, Aaron.” Sans grunted and he watched the big bafoon scramble for the door. As soon as, it closed… his vision spun before blackness consumed him.

-

Grillby shook his head as he lowered Sans to the floor, grip loose as his hands still jittered unsteadily.

What the hell had just happened?

“Bonehead.” He sighed, stroking Sans cheek. “I’m always having to carry you home...”


	13. -My Place Is With You-(RG01/RG02)(R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He never told him. He never would.  
> -UT Timeline: Neutral-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is character death in this chapter. Please be warned.  
> For those who may not know: RG01 is a bunny and RG02 is a dragon.

In all the years that Undyne has interacted with her guard members…She has never seen Tonbo so quiet as he approached her, dragging his sword through the red-tinted dirt. His ears were lowered flat against his helmet even though the blistering heat of Hotland was swirling around them ( _but then again…his magic was on the cooler side so maybe_ …)

Wait.

His ears…the color…there was something…

_Something was wrong._

She sped up her pace to her guardsman, tightening her grip tightened on her spear as she went. He froze in his tracks as she reached him, armour clinking softly as he pressed his heels together. Tonbo said nothing though. No “Captain Undyne!” or “Dude! I have a report!”…just unsteady, muffled breaths.

“...Guardsman?” Undyne questioned gently and Tonbo’s hand clenched on his sword before he dropped it carelessly to the ground.

“…I…he…”

_Something was **definitely** wrong._

Tonbo crumpled to his knees, swirls of blue-grey magic bursting around him. Undyne stayed silent as his voice raised in a single wail of his sorrow and when he ripped his helmet off his face to reveal tear-stained red fur, she let it go sailing beside her face.

There was no flare of irritation, no anger stirring in her gut…just cold dread.

“What happened?” Undyne whispered. “I need to know. Or I can’t help.”

“Shizuka…h-he…” Tonbo stuttered and went silent. “Like…The human…they were… ** _why? Just why? Why why why…_** ” He curled into himself, repeating the word like a horrible sick mantra.

What could she do?

What could she possibly say?

Undyne straightened her spine and opened her mouth.

“I never told him, Sir.” She barely caught the statement as it tumbled from one of her best royal guards mouth. “I never said that I loved him and now…”

Undyne lowered herself to her knees.

“…I’m sorry. Do…”

_Do you know he loved you too? Do you know that Tonbo? He requested you for patrol too. He never said much but he asked me after you did._

_God._

_I wish…I could take it away._

“I’ll avenge him. I swear it. I won’t stop until the human’s dead.” She kept her twitching hand by her side, resisting the urge to smear the dust from Tonbo’s ear.

It seemed like Shizuka had chosen the perfect resting place.


	14. -In Honor Of What We Once Were-(Alphys/Asgore)(S)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alphys has her ways to deal with the Curse...including indulging in her "toys"  
> -YandereTale AU-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE THE "S". This chapter is NSFW! If this is not your cup of tea, move along! <3 The warnings for this chapters: drug use, drug abuse, and sexual situations. Proceed with caution.  
> Once again, Ammazolie is YandereTale's creator. Her blog is ammazolie.tumblr.com/ (18+ ONLY)

They didn’t talk about it much… though everyone knew about it now. The power that Papyrus had gained from the flower… and how he had turned their world upside down.

How it was a god damn free for all.

Her claws clinked on the golden tiled hallway as she made her way through the castle. Undyne had escorted her as far as the elevator before giving her a brief nuzzle and a playful salute before trudging away to go about her guard duties (which really involved hunting and terrorizing whatever weaker monsters were unlucky to cross her path).

She was lucky. Beyond lucky…if she were being completely honest with herself. Her love was one of the strongest monsters in the Underground which meant she was protected. If anybody dared to fuck with her, Undyne would make their life **_hell._**

(Even though, they were already burning in hell. She didn’t mind really…)

_Even if they might have been close to a happy-ish ending…_

Alphys reached into the inside pocket of her frayed lab coat and pulled out her favorite powder. It would help talk her mind off of what-could-have-beens, should-have-beens, fuck-that-bitchy-skeleton, and all the thoughts that tugged at her nimble, always thinking mind. She paused, shivering. She hated this hallway.

Despised it.

They all did except for…

Alphys took a deep inhale and savored the frigid feeling spreading across her chest. Her knees buckled at the swift blossom of pleasure uncurling in her gut. A soft moan escaped her mouth before she could stifle it. There was already slick ruby wetness starting to tickle down her scales.

She didn’t care because it didn’t matter.

She hadn’t come to the castle for shits and giggles… she had been summoned.

-

Alphys couldn’t really say that **_this_** is what she expected but she wasn’t about to complain.

She dug her palm into her teeth as Asgore’s large paws kept her legs spread as his cock pushed relentlessly into her entrance.

Her mind was fuzzed out- the edges of her vision white and dream-like but she wasn’t the only one riding an artificial bliss. Asgore’s gaze was unfocused, distant as he fucked her.

She had her own streak of cruelness too.

“What w-would— ** _nghh_** —Toriel say if she saw you right now?” Alphys taunted the king. The response was immediate and _delicious_. A strangled pained growl escaped from Asgore, his fingers digging into her thighs as he bucked up harsher, faster.

“You would do well to be quiet. What about your own love?” Asgore questioned honestly. He dropped his hold on one of her legs to fondle her breast. Alphys threw her head back, hearing the charm on her collar jingle.

Guilt tried to push through the haze and she let it wash over her, feeling the sting of bile in her throat. The wrongness of it all took her higher, legs splaying open wider in a shameless display. Her fingers drifted to rub her clit as Asgore’s hot breath ghosted across her neck.

“Undyne has her own— _hnng_ —“ Asgore had sunk his fangs into her shoulder and she could hear her lab coat’s protest as it ripped under the force. “Toys.”

Asgore said nothing to that and Alphys groaned as she felt his hands start to tremble.

 _Fuck._ She thought she had more time before the dose took full effect.

Alphys started to ride him in earnest, fingers circling the nub fueling her pleasure mercilessly and her other coming to pinch her nipple as Asgore’s grasp fell away from her.

_Just a bit more. So…close…_

She felt her muscles tightening, breaths coming in short bursts.

_Please, please, please…_

Her orgasm hit her with ruthless abandon, wall fluttering and squeezing the cock embedded in her. She whimpered, vision gone white before catching herself on Asgore’s knees. Alphys took a moment to catch her breath and let her breath slow into a calm cadence before taking a peek at the king behind her.

The King who was completely swept up in her drug, body limp. His tongue lolled out the side of his mouth and his eyes were open but unseeing.

Alphys sighed before leaning back against his chest.

“…only because I loved you once, Asgore.” Alphys whispered and shifted, feeling little tingles of lust trying to arc up her spine once more. “I’ll let you have your moment of happiness.” She smiled sadly as she lifted herself up.

She felt so empty… so…

_They had been friends once…what would Toriel say if she saw…_

Alphys’ fingers brushed over the vial in her coat once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still very unsure of my smut writing and am definitely out of my comfort zone on this one but Yan Alphys is a character that I was intrigued by...


	15. -Sanctuary-(Napstablook/Shyren)(R or P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They don't talk very often.  
> -UT Timeline: Post-Pacifist-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pair of characters that I haven't dug deep into before (or at least, the original UT versions) and per request of Hubby...I fixed that mistake. XD This is relatively short but...I think it gets the point across. Enjoy! <3 Thank you for the comments and kudos. They make my day.

Napstablook doesn't ask her about her agent. Or whether she misses them acting as a “body”.

(Metta has made it his mission to make sure both Blooky and Shyren are taken care of. Metta takes care to warn ( _terrify_ ) anyone that if Shy or they say no to a performance…It’s no. End of story. He has designed the house they share to adapt to Shyren's lack of body and she could always levitate if need be... They were constantly worried. It was a habit that was hard to let go of.)

She doesn’t ask about why they have forgiven Metta so easily.

(She knows why though... Blooky is fiercely loyal and while Metta did shatter their heart...it had been the two of them against the world for a long while. Blooky and Metta had been close and Blooky was silently...intensely...supportive, even when they had still been trapped. She could understand.)

They don’t talk about anything very often, really, but they are constantly in each other’s presence.

Shy doesn’t mind resting with him on the ground and feeling like garbage- she giggles excitedly when his magic causes the room to explode into an explosion of stars, multicolored nebulae, and serene stillness. A smile always flits across their form before they hum a few notes of whatever song is in progress at the moment.

They are a soothing presence when she practices piano, plucking at the notes reluctantly and slowly at first. Napstablook doesn’t interfere, quietly drifting across the floor as the music pours from the headphones they wear. It’s…refreshing. Shyren begins to let the notes string together into a melody and when a note goes sour, she pauses and releases a breath when Blooky merely tilts their body in a questioning gesture before she continues to play.

Sometimes, she sings for them.

Sometimes, they mix songs for her.

They don’t talk very often but that’s okay.

The music and silence float between them.

Shyren and Napstablook know exactly what the other is saying without the awkward stammering, insecure phrasing, or fear that comes through their speaking voices.

It’s safe. It’s comfortable. Slowly, together…they are beginning to heal. One day…they’ll talk. Truly talk.

But not today.


	16. -Mirror Image-(Mettaton/Alphys)(P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alphys confides in Mettaton about Phi's depression. Mettaton finds himself reminded of Alphys.  
> -UT Timeline: Post-Pacifist-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if this fills the prompt? I mean...It's more Mettaton and Phi centered but I see Metta being a close enough friend to Al that she trusts him? And thus this was born.  
> Maybe?? XD I tried!

Mettaton grimaces as he picks his way closer to the edge of the cliff she has decided to escape to. She’s staring into the depths of the ocean below and he can hear the dull siren song of the waves as they wear away the stone.

Her tail is curled around her frame tightly. The small red fins at the tip quivering in the wind.

Mettaton sighs, running a hand through raven locks. She reminds him so much of them both but in this moment… it’s Alphys he sees. Her daughter has the same quiet, contemplative look on her face as she ignores his approach.

“ _I don’t know what to do, Mettaton. I can’t help her because she has to find her own reason to go on.” Alphys had confided to him with her throat clogged with tears. “I-I’m afraid that w-we’re going to lose her.”_

_“I won’t let that happen.” The words had rushed out of him in a dark rumble. He would be damned if he let anything happen to Phi on his watch. “Alphy—“_

_“Mettaton, I’m serious. She’s in a really dark place right now especially with Frisk…y-you know humans don’t have as long of a life span.” He could hear the scrape of the wire framed glasses on the receiver as Alphys heaved a deep breath. “They won’t last too much longer—“_

_“I know.” Mettaton had replied and gave a sigh of his own as he leaned back. “Poor Phi…”_

_“I don’t know what to do.” Alphys voice was low and weighed down with hopelessness._

_“Let me talk to her.”_

_“Metta…”_

_“Trust me?” He asked with a slight smile._

_“…y-yeah. Okay.”_

Now that he was standing beside her, his usual poise and impromptu genius was failing him. He watched the gils on the side of her face twitch but still Phi refused to speak, just staring down into the waves. Mettaton sank to a crouch, balancing his weight on the tips of his pink heels.

“Did Mom send you?” Phi questioned with a soft whoosh of breath, brushing the golden locks out of her face.

“Alphy is really worried about you.” Mettaton answered softly and watched as she turned to stare at the water once more. “…she recognized the look in your eyes. It’s scaring her.”  


_It’s scaring me._

“…I’m fine.” Phi lied as she spread her fingers, flexing the webbing idly. “Really.”

“No, you’re not.”

He watched as her fins twitched with the flare of her temper but she kept her teeth tightly clamped.

_What can I say? I didn’t know what to say to Alphy either…_

_Maybe…listening will be enough?_

Mettaton fought the urge to fill the silence and let it drag on. Phi grew restless as the moments passes- fins flicking, tail twitching, and claws flexing before she burst in a silent pained statement.

“Frisk is dying.”

“I know.”

“I-they…” Phi wrapped her arms around herself and Mettaton finally let himself sit fully on the ground. “They are…I love them. Like how Mom loves Momma.”

Mettaton sucked in a breath and gingerly wrapped his arms around Phi, feeling her quake with silent sobs.

“Oh, darling. Honey…I am so, so sorry.”


	17. -The Possibility of This Time-(Frisk/Chara)(P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara doesn't understand Frisk but this takes the cake.  
> -Undertale Timeline: Post Neutral, Pacifist Route-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me ages to decide on what I wanted to write for these two (SO many options) but I finally settled on this. My precious Determination children. <3

There were many things that Chara didn’t “understand” (they would have air signed the quotation marks but what was the point?) and Frisk was one of them.

Well…That wasn’t entirely true. The ruby eyed child could understand the heart-skipping fear that had shot up the other’s spine when faced with monsterkind for the first time but not the way Frisk had accepted Toriel’s hand without hesitation.

(Chara remembers flinching in Asriel’s hold when Toriel had lifted a heavy paw. Chara would never admit to shying away even now… that was when whatever the fuck was keeping them to this wretched world would set their trapped soul aflame.)

They didn’t understand Frisk, smiling up at Papyrus’ towering form and the soft, “Let’s be friends.” That drifted into the chilled air.

They couldn’t _fucking **comprehend**_ the silent but steadfast refusal to Chara’s suggestion that fear went a longer way than kindness even though…the sleepy eyed idiot had stumbled across their knife earlier in this run.

But this…

This took the cake.

Frisk shot up with a sharp gasp, clutching their damp shirt as Chara floated beside them. The spirit’s fingers twitched with the urge to comfort the other child but instead they scoffed, clicking their tongue in disapproval.

“That…I forgot how _sporadic_ Undyne’s attacks really are.” Frisk muttered and Chara said nothing as they rubbed at the center of their chest where the spear had forced it way through the bone and sinew.

“You mean you forgot how it felt to _die_ by her attacks.” Chara responded without a thought. They floated so they were beside an echo flower. They wanted to poke it and see what messages it held ( _they knew)_. Or if it would be different ( _it never was)_. They picked idly at their green sweater and traced the scars that should be there.

_A distraction is just that…a distraction. Just ask._

They weren’t one to…avoid asking questions but this particular one…

“Why are we here anyway, Frisk?” The question slipped out in a growl and their shoulders rose. “You were so close…you made it to the True Lab.”

Frisk didn’t answer and Chara ground their teeth in agitation. There was the rapid whooshing of Frisk’s breath and the stillness between them stretched on… eventually, Frisk’s inhales and exhales were gentle and nearly inaudible.

“I…” Frisk murmured, pushing their hair behind their ear. “I want to save them. _Everyone.”_

_Asriel._

The name floated across Chara’s mind and it left a hot coil of pain in its wake and a soothing iciness of affection. Chara recoiled from Frisk and hissed, grabbing the front of their own sweater where the sensations were strongest.

“Asr—“

“No. Not just Asriel but _you,_ Chara.” Frisk met Chara’s wide gaze with their own. It was like looking into a cloudless sky on a sunny day complete with a bright sun of simmering tenacity. Chara snorted at the poetic train of thought in derision.

Seems Asgore had influenced them more than they cared to admit.

That and Frisk was impossibly naïve.

“I don’t know if you noticed but my body? It’s gone.” Chara waved their hand in a careless motion. “Maggot food.”

Frisk pursed their lips and wrinkled their nose in a disgusted grimace before biting their lip. Chara raised a brow and floated closer slowly.

“I…think it may be possible to reset further than what we’ve been doing or…” Frisk trailed off in their uncertainty, twiddling their thumbs, before lifting their chin defiantly. “W-well I won’t know until we find the man who speaks in ha—“

“No.”

“What do yo—“

“No, Frisk. We are _not_ looking for him. Did you not hear the whole ‘beware’ part?” Chara’s volume rose as the hairs stood at attention on the back of their neck and their stomach free fell. “No.”

_“Those flowers could kill you…” He had told them with a hand raised to his chin. The tone had been free of the reprimand Mo—Toriel’s had held but it had scared them more than any rage they could have faced._

_Thoughtfulness._

_“What if I told you that you could save them? Save Asriel?”_

Frisk rose from where they had been sitting, dusting off their knees and readjusting the crusty bandage. Puss pulled away from the cut in their leg and Frisk hurried to press it down once more before sucking in a deep inhale and holding it. Chara pinched the bridge of their nose.

“I’m doing it.” Chara opened their mouth to scream, grumble, _something_ but Frisk carried on. “Do you remember what you told me a couple of runs back…when…when we found the quiche?”

_“I can relate to this quiche.” Chara had confessed in a rare moment of honesty. “It’s been left and forgotten. Unloved. Probably gives the maker bad memories.”_

“What of it?” Chara’s voice refused to raise above a murmur and they wrapped their arms around themselves.

“Do you remember what I said?”

_“I do too.” Frisk had met the admission with one of their own, poking the spongy surface mindlessly. Chara had been taken aback. Frisk turned the pastry around slowly, wiping the dirt and some stray petals off. “…but I’m not alone anymore.” Frisk’s eyes were filled with tears but their smile was bright._

_“Neither are you, Chara. You were loved. **Are** loved.”_

_Chara shook their head._

_“You are. By me.”_

Frisk always did know how to leave them speechless.

“That’s why I’m doing this.”

Chara’s eyes softened, crinkling at the corners as their lips tugged up in a half-smile.

“You really are an idiot. I guess I have to protect you.”


	18. -The Fire and the Spider-(Grillby/Muffet)(P or R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have history.  
> -Royal Guard AU? Undertale Timeline?-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to mark this as an UT Timeline because it's more AUish but meh. I had this idea that sprung up on me and I am in love with it. <3 Please enjoy reading this chapter!  
> I also marked this as P or R as it can be spun either way. :D  
> Edit: (11/21) Fixed some grammatical errors, tense situations (I always post fresh and unbeta'd), and added components I apparently didn't carry over (The heck brain?)

She spots him first (with help from her little darlings, of course) and her back straightens involuntarily. It is a habit that has never been truly lost in the time (days, months, _years_ ) since the last time they spoke. Her hair is pulled into her preferred style…her high pigtails.

Her hands drift to one of them before both of them still and she lets out a giggle decisively.

She tries to ignore the shakiness of it.

She isn't his subordinate anymore. It's alright to have her hair as it is.

He has never been one for fashion anyway.

Grillby is fussing with his cuff links when the tips of the flames that make up his hair glow a brief harsh white.

He's caught sight of her, then.

_“Muffet?” The gentle tone startles her out of her muffled sniffling and she whips around, letting her violet essence drench his soul. The older soldier sucks in a breath but doesn’t fight it, meeting her magic with a soothing pulse of his own. The wisps curl around each other and reflect prisms of light around their forms._

_Realization dawns on Muffet and she stops the flow of her magic at the same time her hand drops from the worn hilt of the sword strapped to her hip._

_"...I...."_

_"...I may not be much but perhaps I could help?"_

(She hasn’t always been light on her feet, Muffet muses as memories begin to swarm her. She begins her approach, easily tilting the tray to avoid the other party-goers. Whispers followed in her wake from her spiders as they realize where her destination lies… the young ones have heard stories, of course, but she had formally requested that her service in the guard be expunged from public record.)

_“You can do better than that.” She hears Grillby sigh as she sits, unresponsive._

_She doesn’t want to do this. She’s so, so tired… Tired of armor plates weighing down her body, jagged edges sawing into her arms because there were very few monsters with eight limbs. Tired of sleepless nights and dreading morning patrols._

_She was tired of gathering dust in her knapsack._

_Tired of picking single flowers for each pile of dust._

_Her eyes catch on a single young spider enjoying their exploration of the grassy field and she smiles. An explosion of Grillby’s magic freezes her breath. She resists the instinct to close her eyes at the impending impact but it ghosts past her…_

_Muffet cries out and throws her shield._

_The sun beats down as his magic rains down, setting the grass into slow smoulders. The darling is sobbing as they escape._

_But they escape._

_“Remember what you fight for. Love and compassion…we abandon that here.”_

(Many people ask why she is so ruthless but she now knows what she is fighting for. She wouldn’t lose sight of that ever again.)

_“They are starting to tell stories. Fairytales.” Muffet murmurs as she brushes back a slain human child’s hair from their dirt-streaked cheek. The blood is already dark and partially soaked into the dirt._

_“…you have to have support for a cause.” Grillby responds and he sounds so exhausted. He kneels beside her, armor creaking with the movement. She says nothing to the whisper because she doesn’t think that she was supposed to hear it (or maybe she did- but truthfully…she wonders the same thing each time she raises her weapon, releases her magic.)_

_“Who really lacks compassion and love?”_

 (Muffet smiles and offers Grillby a doughnut.

He hesitates but accepts it.)

_“I’m so sorry, Muffet.”_

_They’ve lost. There’s no more fighting…only defeat and refuge._

_“I’m not. You taught me a lot, General.”_

(“Don’t you think it’s funny?” Her voice lifts in a happy cadence but she sets her tray down, eyes darting around the humans in the room. “They have their own stories.”

Grillby smiles. “…Yes. It appears they do.”

Muffet presses a single hand to his shoulder, just enough to let him feel it. A silent acknowledgement of the rolling emotions, the bile-inducing guilt, and overwhelming gratitude.

“We can make new ones.”

Grillby doesn’t speak but his flame flickers.

A curious human child makes a shaky beeline for them, wringing his hands. They aren't Frisk.)

-

Time to turn the page.


	19. -Fallen: Losing Myself-(Papyrus/Frisk)(P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk is losing themselves and it terrifies them but it's harder to reset after being with Papyrus.  
> -Flowertale AU-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The creator of the Flowertale AU is neskybo.tumblr.com/ Check them out and show 'em some love!  
> I have been /dying/ to write something from this AU for AGES and this seemed the perfect time...  
> As always if there are any mistakes- let me know! <3 This entire work is unbeta'd. Thank you for reading!

They are laying on the ground, eyes half-lidded as they watch the cloud drift by. There’s only the soft sounds of the grass singing a quiet lullaby in the wind, the distant sound of Sans’ soft snores, and Toriel’s gentle tune. Frisk’s fingers tug the blades of grass in short jerks.

It’s…too…

Too… something.

The other lays beside them, phantom fingers touching the tips of theirs. There is no pressure but a cool sensation vibrates across their skin, electricity causing Frisk to shiver.

“I’m bored.” Chara says in a murmur. It isn’t the first, the twentieth, or even the hundredth time they have spoken this sentiment but it’s the first time that Frisk hums an agreement.

They are older now- the childish roundness has left the apples of their cheeks, their limbs have stretched and are toned. Their hair is still short and Frisk pushes it back behind their ear as they sit up abruptly. They hug their knees and don’t speak.

Chara mimics their actions…still wearing the face of a young child.

There is a stirring in their soul- pulsing, twisting, and aching. Frisk lifts their finger to their mouth, worrying the hang nail there before ripping it out. The pain is sharp and eases the breath that they weren’t aware was frozen in their chest.

“...do you ever miss it?” Chara questioned with a sidelong glance. “The fights? The adrenaline?”

Copper spreads across Frisk tongue and it doesn’t make them wince like it used to.

The only blood spilled has been their own by their own hand as of late.

“…I’m just sayin’. One reset couldn’t hurt.” Chara continues on.

The sun is shining. Its rays heating up the air but not uncomfortably so. It would be a perfect day for a picnic…perhaps…they should ask Sans. He was always up for exploring places of wilderness…

“We don’t even have to do it my way. We could just…” Chara leans back and grips a fistful of hair. “Just…Save them again. Maybe this time we could bring Azzie back.”

Frisk still says nothing but Chara sees their soul escape its vessel and pulse vibrantly. There’s two glowing stars in the center- one a deep plum ( _Load_ ) and the other a bright garish orange _(Reset)_.

They hesitate.

“…just once.” The words whoosh out of them and their hand is shaking as they press a finger into the body of their soul. They grit their teeth at the uncomfortable sensation, the slight sear of heat that jars their body ( _Has it really been that long that loading and saving hurt?)…_ They curl their fingers back.

Chara presses their small palm on the back of their hand with a teeth-baring smile.

“I’ve got you, partner.”

_Once won’t hurt._

_-_

_Frisk’s hands slap across their mouth a bit too late to muffle scream that tumbles from them unbidden. They are shaking but it’s not from the chill that is never truly banished from the air in Snowdin. There’s silent tears cascading down the cheeks and for a second, the stubbiness of their legs disorients them as the dream ( **Memory** ) clings to their sleep-addled brain._

_There’s the loud thumps of footfalls that grow louder and Frisk can feel the vibrations in their bones. The door is flung open and Papyrus steps inside, instantly making his way to where they are clutching his blanket to their tiny chest._

_They were in his red race car bed?_

_“Pull it together, Frisk.” Chara commands without venom and Frisk can hear the weariness in the way their speech has softened over the resets._

_How many has it been?_

_Frisk squints in the dim brightness and raises their eyes to Papyrus. There are flowers…their petals appear soft and their crimson color is dulled in the indirect light. The blooms peek up from his scarf as if refusing to be hidden by the offending fabric… the handstitched article his brother had loving crafted._

**_Sans couldn’t protect his brother even in the smallest sense. How pathetic._ **

_Frisk cries harder at the thought that drifts across their mind unbidden and Papyrus is speaking, boisterous voice lowered into soothing lilt. He is gingerly petting Frisk’s hair before he stills._

_Frisk raises their arms at the same instant Papyrus leans down to scoop them into his embrace. His bones are rigid, unforgiving, but Frisk welcomes the uncomfortableness. They should feel uncomfortable, hurt…_

_They should feel guilt._

_“It’s okay, tiny human! You did so well today!” Papyrus shushes them, rocking his body back and forth. Frisk’s fingers reach up and curl into the scarf at his neck, feeling the tickle of the thin skin of the flowers on the own. The muscles of their fingers spasm._

_“You could pull them.” Chara murmurs in their ear. It isn’t just Chara who is thinking about that possibility or even fighting the urge to do it._

_That is what terrifies Frisk._

_They are enveloped in warmth. Frisk wrenches the scarf over their head, shielding their eyes, pressing their nose against it._

_Maybe they could suffocate in the fragrance of their sins._

_“I could ask Sans to read…”_

_Frisk’s reaction is immediate and violent. They jerk their head back and forth. Papyrus is stunned to silence but takes it in stride._

_“Very well! I shall read to you myself.”_ _Papyrus responds. He is already reaching for the well worn picture book on his bedside table. He scoots so that he is spawled on his back and Frisk is limp against his chest._

_Frisk hears the hums of his soul and the bring their thumb to their mouth. They are tempted to press it against their canine but refrain. Papyrus is reading and they can feel their eyes drooping involuntarily, surrounded by his unquestionable loyalty and boundless compassion._

_Resetting was always harder after being with Papyrus but…_

-

Sans cracks open his eyes and winces at the pain lancing through his skull. His fingers trace the crack and note that gap has widened an unnoticeable amount and the fissure is deeper.

They reset then.

_Would you still believe in them if you knew?_

Sans sighs and lifts his hand to the washed out ceiling, vision blurring and swimming with clear bottomless skies.

He didn’t believe even the miniscule amount that had buried in his soul that came with that happy timeline that spanned years.

_You would. Wouldn’t you?_

Sans fingers drift across the pieces of Heaven the fallen angel has blessed him with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: The three songs I listened to for this chapter- Fallen by Rob Thomas, Criminal by Fiona Apple, and Simple And Clean/Sanctuary Mashup by Annapantsu.


	20. -A Song For You-(Mettaton/Napstablook)(P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mettaton can't seem to get "in-character" for Blooky.   
> -AsylumTale Universe-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are revisiting the AsylumTale Universe once more (because I love it) and once again, the creator is furgemancs.tumblr.com/  
> Let's visit the ghost cousins, shall we? <3 Thank you for the comments and kudos!

They are curled in the corner and Mettaton can see their glowing tears on the floor.

Mettaton shuffles his flat pink boots against the tile and his hand drifts to his opposite wrist, squeezing. It’s a habit he hasn’t fully outgrown since he has had his body and it catches Blooky’s attention. The hushed heaves smooth into strained sniffles as they turn to face them.

Mettaton tries to reach for the persona that comes when he is with an audience, dropping his hold. His hands drift to fluff his hair but they tangle in the strands instead.

…Why? Why is it so hard to put on a show for Blooky?

_“Papyrus says that the only one you don’t perform for is that sad ghostie.” Sans had told him the other day when Mettaton had come to do a one-man act of a story Frisk had suggested to him. The skeleton’s eyes had been unfocused, bones seeming to droop, and a tight grin was frozen on his face._

_Mettaton had been caught off guard, waving his arms as he shifted his weight too far forward. He landed on his rear with an undignified grunt._

_“…I’m sorry?” Mettaton blanched._

_“You come visit everyone. Even Asgore!” Sans lifted his arms to wave them slowly. It was a mockery of the usual animated blur but it got the point across._

_“I…” Mettaton began uncertainly before he shook his head. “I’m sure Blooky…”_

_“Their name is Blooky, Paps!” Sans squealed excitedly before he tilted his head as if listening to a person. Mettaton felt a cool sensation douse his soul and he whipped his head around. No one was ever there._

_This time wasn’t any different._

_“I’m sorry for interrupting.” Sans apologized sheepishly before he swayed slightly. “’M sleepy…” He drawled, shaking his head slowly._

_The tranquilizers had to be hitting him hard, Mettaton thought as he finally stood._

_“I’ll let you sleep, darling. I’ll finish the story another time.”_

_“…Okie but Pap says you should go visit the ghostie. Says he misses you…”_

_Mettaton’s heart had dropped._

**_Why am I here? Blooky…I haven’t…_ **

“Metta.” Blooky’s voice was surprised but lacked any heat. They drifted to him and gave him a small, trembling smile. “It’s been a while. It’s good to see you…” Blooky’s smile dropped off and their body shifted side to side with doubt. “Unless…it’s not…”

Mettaton could feel his soul reaching out to his cousin but with a corporeal form…the link was much more flimsy than ever before. Blooky didn’t resist the connection though and Mettaton gasped at the joy bubbling through. It was muted and tenuous but it was clear.

Mettaton felt his guilt crash over him at the emotions trickling to him, sinking slowly to the floor. He could feel his magic gathering at the corner of his eyes and starting to overflow.

Why had he stayed away for so long?

Why had he thought Blooky would be unforgiving?

Why…

He didn’t noticed that he had sprawled on his side until Blooky levitated beside him, radiating reassurance and comfort. They lay unmoving and Mettaton giggled brokenly as Blooky’s magic surrounded them- projecting the spinning universe with its countless stars and innumerous galaxies.

“You always said you wanted to be one of them.” Blooky murmured, content with the stillness. “And you are, Metta. You know how much the residents enjoy your shows?”

Mettaton spun around and grabbed Blooky, hugging them tight. “I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry…” He kept repeating the apology over and over.

“It’s okay, Metta. I didn’t mean to make you cry…You must want to leave…”

“No, Blooky, no.” Mettaton hiccupped. “Just…what can I perform for you? I can’t seem to put on a show for you…”

“Oh…” Blooky’s voice drifted off into a contemplative silent before continuing hesitantly: “I…I haven’t heard you sing in a while. Can…can you sing for me?”

It had taken the robot a while to calm down enough to form any coherent words and even longer to clear his throat of the clinging cloying magic but that night, Mettaton’s smooth voice filled the halls.

He sang for all he was worth. He was going to give Blooky the **_BEST_** show he had ever seen.

Maybe he could help his cousin a tiny bit.

-

Papyrus smiled as he stroked his sleeping brother’s skull.

Both of the cousins had a lovely voice.

He only hoped Mettaton would hear the song that was composed for him but in due time.  


	21. -Don't Speak-(Chara/Sans)(P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara and Cross have evolved in their friendship but...both will not acknowledge it.  
> -Underverse AU-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original creator of C/Cross! Sans is Jakei95.tumblr.com/ and the main blog is underversesans.tumblr.com/  
> This directly reference their animation "Underverse 0.2- Part 2- FINAL" If you have not seen the animation series, PLEASE DO. This could be considered spoilers.  
> YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.  
> Appearances:  
> Ink! Sans belongs to comyet.tumblr.com/  
> And...Nightmare! Sans belongs to jokublog.tumblr.com/

“You idiot!” He had heard Chara scream. It had been laced with white hot fury but there was a hysterical edge to it. “Listen to me, Trashbag!”

The command had barely registered and if Cross hadn’t been consumed with the dread drowning his stolen soul… he might have caught the furrowed brows and pursed lips of his bodymate.

“He’s screwing with your mind!” Chara continued and when they spun around, Cross could have sworn that he felt their ghostly fingers twitch against his briefly but all he could see long, slender fingers, feel the…wrongness clawing at his chest.

-

Chara had forced their body to safety.

This empty nothingness that was their world.

Cross sat numbly on the floor and Chara gave a deep sigh as they lowered themselves in front of him.

Cross and the human say nothing for a long while. Until…

Cross makes to lay on the ground. The movement is gradual- body shifting to the right then further, phalanges coming to trace on the whiteness without thought before pressing a palm flat with a sharp breath and a resounding smack, more weight, bending elbow…

“Don’t you dare.” Chara hisses.

Sans stills but his eyes are hollow. His arm is trembling with the effort of stopping his movement.

Classic Sans had been right. Maybe sleeping would help…

“Sans, please…”

“That’s not my name.” It’s an automatic response and Chara feels a rush of satisfaction as the skeleton jerks upright, reaching for the locket around their neck.

“Then stop acting like a lazy…” Chara grumbled to themselves, halting mid-sentence with a huff, before jumping to their feet. “I’m keeping my promise to rebuild this world and not even _you_ are going to stop me!” They are waving their hands now and Cross can’t help but shake his head.

 _“Come on Sans! Get up!” Chara had been **snarling**_. _There was no emotion but the unbridled starburst of unbearable flames licking up his broken soul. Cross had let the absolute loathing and rage wash over him but the infuriating warrior hadn't even flinched._

_Chara wanted to kill him._

_He kept his eyes on the black scarf laying in the soundless emptiness. His brother’s scarf._

_His brother…_

_“I’m going to kill you when I get control. I will, **I will, I will…**” Chara’s threats grew in volume and pitch until they were pulling on their hair._

_Cross didn’t move his body but his hand reached for the scarf uselessly._

_It was too far._

 "Chara…” Cross tried, voice dragging with his reluctance. He knew that if Chara got caught up in their rant that it would be a challenge to derail their tirade.

“We had the code! You should have just left! You are so _stupid.”_ Chara grouched as they paced back and forth. “You let your guard down! You could have…”

_“…been killed.” Chara snickers as Cross huddles in his jacket. “There’s something wrong with both of us but at least I’m honest about…”_

_“No. You’re not.” Cross interrupts from his huddled position, not releasing his grip from his knees._

_“…What?” Chara deadpans._

_“You’re not honest. Otherwise, you would admit that there’s something in this…” Cross presses his hand to his chest and opens his hand, their joined soul hovering there. His half isn’t as bright as it should be- faded and washed out with a grey undertone. Minute lines broke the surface criss crossing without rhyme or reason._

_Chara’s half was still bright and pulsing but it seemed duller…resembling blood that had dried on a wound than the bright crimson of a fresh cut. Cross didn’t mention the almost unnoticeable gap between the border and the body._

_Chara had gone on the defense. They had straighten their spine, puffed out their chest, bared their teeth like an injured animal._

_“There is nothing but hate!”_

_Cross inhaled deeply, letting it expand his ribcage before exhaling. He picked up Papyrus’ scarf, toying with the frayed edge and resolutely ignoring the dust trying to wedge itself between his joints. His eyes were starting to unfocus._

_“…If you say so.”_

“HEY!”

It was only his royal guard training that kept him from crying out in surprise and rooted him to the spot but his magic sparked. His hand wrapped around the bone in an instant.

Chara’s face was nearly pressed to his own and they didn’t look pleased.

‘Big surprise.’ Cross thought to himself with a small lick of humor.

“I’m listening.” Cross responded easily even after Chara’s eyes flicked to the bone with raised brows. “...Well. Kind of.”

“You weren’t.” Chara parried but leaned back and walked away to trail their fingers on a stray piece of paper. A remnant of one of Ink’s visits, he was sure. He watched their fingers trace shapes before they made a clawing motion to crumple the picture.

The page kept its position on the floor.

_“This isn’t fun.” Chara groaned as Cross watched Ink work, drawing lines and curves that would become a beautiful picture._

_They didn’t look away from where they hovered over the artist’s other shoulder._

“What are we going to do about your…friend?” Chara’s voice was quiet and somber. It was a question they both hadn’t want to consider…since Cross had come to held a certain affection for the other Sans and Chara reluctantly accepted that maybe Ink was pretty cool ( _even if he was so scatterbrained, he really should have been dead by now. He was a pretty decent fighter though…)_

Cross heaved another sigh.

_“Cross!” Chara called to him, pushing on his shoulder sharply as he rested on his side, motionlessly. Chara wouldn’t admit that it sent little tiny shivers down their arms. It was wrong. Sans shouldn’t be this…still. His eyes shouldn’t be empty. Void of…anything- focus, comprehension, exhaustion…_

_Hope._

_Even a measly shred of it._

_“Cross! Snap out of it!” Chara barked, shoving him again._

_There was nothing. No response._

_“…Sans?” Chara murmured. Still nothing. Chara fluttered around Cross agitatedly, unease squirming in the pit of the nonexistent stomach. “Sans? Sans! SANS!” Their inflection rose and cracked with the effort of their shouting. Why wasn’t he responding? Why?_

_"C! C'mon! Cross! Damn it!"_

_Chara called forth their soul and took note of the nearly crumbled monster half before growling. The willed their determination to move…_

_Maybe they could…_

_Maybe…_

_Their soul essence trickled over Cross’ soul and filled in the cracks, glittering knife sharp. Chara squeezed their lips together against the pain before curling forwards, clutching their jacket._

_“Oh.”  The exclamation startled them, muscles jumping at the spike of fear but they didn’t stand up straight. Instead, they wobbled and shut their eyes._

_“Don’t say a word, you…” Chara tried but they were so…heavy. Their knees fought to keep them up._

_“I won’t.” Ink said with a solemn promise permeating his words before he sat down where he stood. “Why don’t you sleep?”_

_Chara nodded. They could do that._

“…didn’t expect him to interfere. I’m not too sure what to do about Ink…”

Chara blinked as they refocused on the present. Their hand was still clawed and hovering of the picture of the taco Ink had told Cross about what seemed like an eternity ago as they nodded absentmindedly to Cross'  words. 

When had they started clutching the front of their sweater?

“Well, you need to figure it out.” The voice dripped with malice and unmasked disappointment and Chara made their way to Cross and spreading their arms wide in front of him protectively.

_"Where are the knives?"_

Cross complied with their wishes, summoning the large blade. Nightmare’s grin twitched in amusement as his tentacles undulated in slow, relaxed motions.

“Now is that anyway to greet a friend?”


	22. -Sick of Losing Soul Mates-(Sans/Mettaton)(R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reset is like a rewind button. It undoes all the progress he makes. There's a reason he didn't want to meet the others.  
> -Soul Mates AU-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead! I've had a bad case of writer's block but I'm not going to defeat it by sitting here so I hammered this out! I hope you enjoy it! <3  
> I am not used to writing this pairing at all! I adore it though and hope I did okay. T_T

When they were baby bones, he and Pap would compare the marks etched into their bones with wonder. The tiny phrases that littered their body, the words spoken by those who held pieces of their souls.

The absent portions weren’t noticeable, Sans would learn later. Even under the most advanced soul scanning machine… the gaps and cracks of connections that were “meant to be” but had yet to _actually_ be couldn’t be seen. The scars their _soul mates_ left behind.

Sans’ right hand comes to scratch at the symbols carved into the bones of his carpals. He knows them by heart- _“Where are my manners?” –_ and if he concentrated enough, gritting his teeth through the pain of his mind trying to tear his skull apart… He can see him.

He doesn’t remember his name but he can feel the warmth of his arms, the way his magic would envelop him in controlled movements.

One of his soul mates.

Sans digs the tips of his fingers into the symbols and reaches below the sentry station to grab a ketchup bottle, taking a long pull of the liquid. He sees his fingers shaking but Sans is adept at ignoring what he doesn’t want to face so he sets the bottle on the counter with a soft “Heh.”

He hopes that he doesn’t meet the others.

-

“Show me what you got, darling.”

The sentence seemed to steal what he needed to breathe and the notecards fell from his grasp, fluttering down around his feet as his cheeks dusted with blue. Mettaton has his gloved hands folded and the rectangular robot radiates an air of detachment as Sans regain his composure.

“Break a leg, right? Get ready to _fall_ out of your seats.” Sans spreads his hands and shrugs his shoulder with a grin. His soul is throwing itself wildly against his sternum and while his magic is buzzing rapidly across his body… it feels as if something clicked.

He doesn’t breathe easier and the colors in the room don’t get brighter… but he stands straighter as the robot says nothing and the cat beside him closes his eyes in disbelief.

_Game on._

_-_

_He’s not avoiding that is the same sentence blazoned across his collar bone. Nope. Not a chance._

_-_

Surprisingly, he makes the cut and when he has his first show at the resort… his smile is different, Mettaton notes as he watches the skeleton on the monitors in the security room. The lights in his eyes are brighter and flick around the room.

They settle on the other skeleton in a bright yellow shirt and bright pink gloves who gives a loud exclamation of excitement followed by a loud groan at the next pun.

Sans doesn’t seem fazed by this but instead his magic pushes out in a happy blue aura for a brief moment.

Mettaton ignores the pang in his soul and instead huffs.

“Tch. Perhaps this was a bad idea.”

-

Ghosts don’t carry corporeal marks but _Mettaton knows._

There’s no way a skeleton with a horrible sense of humor is his soul mate.

No way. Even if his smile stirs Mettaton’s deeply buried protective streak.

-

“You’re the only star I need.” Sans tells him with a wink as he wipes the ink off of his panel with his hoodie.

If he could splutter, Mettaton would but only a surprise beep escapes him. Sans chuckles quietly before he shakes his head, dropping his hand.

Mettaton hates the way the bones seem to shift and droop sadly. The lights in those eyes dimming and Sans’ ever permanent smile sagging in one corner shakily.

His expression is so…

So…

Mettaton remembers that expression on his own face a lifetime ago. When he would look into the mirror and loathe every detail he saw.

It was an expression of despair.

It was an expression of drowning.

Mettaton registers the moment his hand comes to squeeze Sans’ shoulder. He is surprised with himself but doesn’t pull away.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” Mettaton replied and he watches Sans’ grin twitch. His eyelights wander away but the usually cheery monster keeps silent.

Mettaton’s fingers clench tighter around the bones he holds.

-

_He’s so funny._

Sans mused as the beaten up couch cradled his form, highlighter clutched in the hand that was not holding his quantum physics-disguised-as-a-jokebook. His grin stretched wider as Mettaton huffed and fluffed his hair before returning to his restless pacing and organizing.

The skeleton knew that he would just have to wait it out because- while the other was not shy by any means… Mettaton was ridiculously stubborn about asking for cuddles. The laughter rumbles through him but he manages to control it and flips a page.

Mettaton plops across his lap, humanoid lips pursed as he swats away the book and heaves a heavy sigh.

“I’m your soul mate, darling. You really ought to pay attention to me…”

-

Sans blinks his eyes open and reaches out to the cold bed sheets. He manages to lift himself enough to rest his elbows on his knees and look at the snow falling outside the window.

There aren’t many tears this time but there’s enough to stain his sheets with dark splashes.

He’s so tired.

Sans presses his hand against Mettaton’s words and looks at the calendar on the floor.

_There’s a show tonight…_

_-  
_ Mettaton rests a hand against his face plate as he watches the monster on stage fluff out his feathers.

Sans hasn’t been to a show in a while.

_Perhaps he’s busy?_

Mettaton sighs as he turns in the chair.

He’s not disappointed.

He’s really not.

-

Sans stays home.

Another day, another timeline… he could do this.

He’s just too tired.


	23. -There's Something in the Air...-(Monster Kid/Frisk)(R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's change crackling in the air. Frisk and MK are growing closer but something is...hovering.  
> -Undertale Timeline-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am alive! <3 I am sorry about the wait, loves but I hope you enjoy this! MK and Frisk are SO adorable. This focuses more on a transitional period in their relationship... Can anyone guess what's going on?  
> Thank you for reading and your comments/kudos! It makes my day.

When the first rays had warmed his scales, MK had paused in a rare show of uncertainty at the mouth of the cave. His tail came to curl around one of his Dad’s ankles, yellow scales clashing against green. A clawed hand stroked his skull slowly and in a steady rhythm.

“It’s okay, Kid.” His father murmured and stretched his wings to shield Kid from the monsters jostling around them in a mixture of restless excitement, motionless disbelief, or slow clambering awe. “It’s okay to be scared.”

“I’m not scare—“ MK began to grumble but let out a squeak as someone patted his foot from under the cover of his father’s little circle of comfort. His father’s wings drew closer protectively and he craned his head to see who had startled his son.

“Oh—“ Kid blinked at the soft exhale.

“Kid!” The excited trill caught his attention and Kid lowered himself to beam at his human friend waving their hands excitedly. “I was looking all over for you!” Frisk seemed to remember something as they craned their head to catch the looming dragon’s gaze. “I’m sorry.” They apologized, rubbing their neck. “I’m Frisk. We’ve met once? By the elevator?”

Frisk swayed from foot to foot and Kid bumped against his father’s side pointedly. There was an answering huff as wings parted and Kid could see the ocean of faces before focusing on Frisk’s. “You met my dad?” He straightened to his feet and swayed briefly before scrunching up his snout in displeasure at the steadying claws on his shoulder. “Dad! I got it!”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Yeah!” Frisk giggled, jitters dissipating with the obvious affection present. “He had…I’m coming, Mom!” Frisk shouted in the middle of their sentence before grabbing Kid’s sweater. “C’mon! It’s time to go up!”

Kid swiped his tail reassuringly against his dad before he followed Frisk who weaved through the crowd easily…who never let go of his sweater.

It was going to be an adventure!

-

Kid arrives first.

The door swings open under the influence of his magic easily and the monster sighs, dragging his feet as he enters. The armor plates covering the tops of his feet chafe unpleasantly, a dull edge of pain tickling his nerve endings and causing his tail to twitch.

He’s so tired.

 _“That’s it! You got it! Just a bit more!”_ Papyrus encouraging words flash across his mind. He straightens his spine and bows. His muscles are tense but it’s a pleasant ache as he stretches.

His training was going well! He could handle some irritating armor!

Armor…

He unlatches the straps with a jerk of his magic and catch the pieces before they can collapse to the floor. He still hasn’t mastered blue magic but Sans told him that is to be expected.

_“you got yellow magic, kid. blue will be a challenge.” Sans spoke, tipping his ketchup bottle at MK as he wobbled from the exercises. He had managed to scoot the lounging skeleton’s chair a few inches._

_“Why?” MK questioned with an impatient huff._

_Frisk was watching quietly from behind the boundaries of the training field, leaning on one of the wooden posts with intense scrutiny. They seemed to be lost in thought but their eyes flicked to Sans every so often._

_“Justice…” Frisk hummed with a small smile but MK could have sworn there was something **more** in their eyes. Something that seemed to cause his bones to weaken and cave in…something that left his chest hollow. “I was wondering why…” Frisk cut of their thought with a yelp as MK rushes to them, tail curling around their waist tightly._

_“Frisk, it’s alright! I’ll get it eventually!” MK is adamant in his reassurances and he can feel the moment he decides: He will master blue magic to protect Frisk._

_Frisk’s face softens, eyes sliding shut as they give him a smile. “I’m sure you will.” He is unprepared for when their arms encircle him and squeeze. It’s a bit uncomfortable but he nuzzles their shoulder, digging his chin into their flesh before headbutting the same spot._

_"he'll get the blue eventually."_

_He hears Sans sigh and if Frisk clutches him tighter, he doesn’t mention it._

MK stands in just his sweaty baggy shirt and leg protectors when his phone chirps against his leg.

He contemplates ignoring it, groaning.

_Ugh. Effort. Who is texting me?_

The tops of his feet are reddened and a few scales are forced upward, exposing the raw smooth skin and MK shifts from foot to foot for a moment before forcing his phone to hover by his face.

**Frisk 7:39pm**

**Are we still going to go check on the echo flowers?**

That’s right…Frisk had heard about a field of echo flowers that had sprang up outside the town’s edge… They had made plans to go check it out.

_They are walking through the falling drops of water. Frisk is caring an umbrella with and is squelching through the puddles. They don’t smile but their eyes crinkle contentedly. Their nails scratch at a bandage barely clinging to their forearm._

_It is silent and uneasiness starts to climb up his spine. He needs to talk. He’s going to burst but he only enjoys one topic and he remembers his sister’s jeers._

_“Not everyone cares about Undyne!”_

_He hesitates but the excitement has him gushing before his mind catches up._

_Frisk tilts their head and listens._

MK smiles.

-

**MK 7:42pm**

**Of course, dude. I just need a shower. I reek.**

Frisk hushes their giggles as they sit back in the chair. Their back is stiff from sitting so long but the meeting has finally been called to a halt for the day.

A frown tugs at the corners of their mouth as they sigh.

Progress was slow moving but no progress was progress…right?

At least that was what Toriel told them.

Frisk pulls their hand stitched bag into their lap and relaxes at the sight of their spare clothes. They were ready for an adventure after this long day!

...An adventure with MK was what they needed. They missed them.

**Frisk 7:45pm**

**I have my clothes. I’ll meet you at the house.**

-

Toriel covers her mouth with a paw as she watches Frisk pull out their sneakers and place them on the table.

“It’s beautiful, is it not? Young love.”

Sans can’t help a soft huff but his hand fidgets nervously in his hoodie pocket.


	24. -Repress/Recollect/Present-(W.D.Gaster/Sans)(R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans remembers and wonders if he was here if he would remember too.  
> -UT Timeline-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty! This is fresh of the presses and it is late but I think this chapter turned out okay (I may actually like it. A lot.)  
> Gaster/Sans is a pairing that I love to consume in all iterations (dark/sadistic shades, familial, and cutsey fluff) but I wanted to balance out my recent darker themed work with these two with some happy-ish stuffs.  
> I hope you enjoy. Thank you for reading!

Everyone remembers to some extent. Each monster remembers in different ways…

Papyrus is always over eager on that day…bones jittering chaotically after a bad run or skipping after one of the better ones like he _knows_ that a human is coming through soon.

Sans watches Alphys curl lazily in a nest of blankets ( _expecting their kind human, no doubt.)_ , fiddling with her figurines with a quiet contentment or he says nothing, hidden in the darkness as he observes her staring at the cold and abandoned DT extraction machine, claws clicking against the floor as she breathes in stuttering heaves.

He can’t help but wonder if Gaster was still here… would he remember, too, in the small ways the others' do? What could possibly be his tells- the signs that show the effects of the anomaly’s time jumps?

Would Sans still be the only one who can retain the memories in full?

-

_“…you are not what I was expecting.” Wing D. Gaster tells him the first time they meet and Sans has to laugh._

_He’s younger and lacks the dark circles under his eyes, spine straight, and his eyes shut as he throws his head back and lets the deep rumbles spill from him without a thought. Sans has always preferred comfort though and he is wearing a white turtleneck, baggy black sweats, and untied sneakers._

_He could see now why Gaster’s floating hands sag in confusion but at the moment, it’s **hilarious.**_

_“yes. well…” Sans guffaws, grin twitching rapidly as he extends his hand. “i can’t say that you are unexpected. i’m sans. sans the intern.”_

_“Where are my manners?” Gaster mutters to himself, thrusting his hand into Sans’ as his hands sign the words. A long, wet squeaking erupts._

_Oh…that purple blush suits him…_

_Whoopie cushions were really the best._

_-_

Sans has his feet submerged in the glowing water and he sighs, letting gravity force him to his back. He must be imagining the extra weigh on his bones…on his sternum. His phalanges rub absently at the spot as he focuses on the crystals glittering above. The refracted light dancing from their surface has him squinting. 

For not being real…their lackluster replacements sure are bright.

_“I’m going to get us out of here.” Gaster whispers to him as Sans is (literally) pushing him through the damp dirt. Sans pauses to take a peek at the other's face._

_Wing’s face is almost…gentle as he glances at the crystals, mouth turned down in a slight frown but his eyes lack the wrinkled appearance that accompanies him being being truly upset._

_Sans takes a deep breath and steps away._

_Gaster stumbles backwards with the absence of the weight on his spine but recovers with a sharp huff. Sans musters a brief smile, glancing away. His bones are warm and the air suddenly feels constricting against their surface._

_“we should really be…”_

_“Yes, yes.” Gaster interrupts him with a quick flick of his wrist, wriggling his fingers. Sans shakes his head at the gesture._

_He barely hears…_

_“I’m going to get you out.”_

Sans shifts from his place, blinking sleepily. It must be darker on the surface… the crystals are murky. There’s no splatters of prismatic orbs, twisting rainbows.

He sighs.

-

_“You can say no.”_

_“you know i would never say no to you.”_

_“…It’s going to hurt, Sans.”_

_“i can take it. it’s just a small dose of the justice sample, right?”_

_-_

There’s some thing about being erased from time and space that leaves such a fine thread in the fabric of reality. ...So fine, that you can’t find the stitch.

Sans wonders if it is even there.

He slumps against the machine, screw driver still clutched in his hand.

-

_He is holding Papyrus in his arms, wobbling unsteadily when Gaster kisses him. His eye is throbbing and he is exhausted with a babbling toddler in his embrace but his cheeks still glow and he still manages a stupid, dopey smirk._

_“it wasn’t that bad.” Sans lies, reaching up with his free hand to smooth over the bandages on his left socket. “but if that is the thanks i get…”_

_Gaster looks horrified for a moment before he chuckles quietly._

_-_

**Gaster strokes his sleeping beloved’s skull.**

**He wishes that Sans would just let him go.**

-

Sans’ eye is _searing,_ arms leaden but he digs his fingers into formless shoulders, and clutches on for all he is worth. The void is burdening his body- he feels like he is being pulled apart…atom by minuscule atom and the iciness is climbing up his throat, stealing his breath but he refuses.

He holds on for all he is worth... no, more than what he's worth. He holds on for what _Gaster_ means to him.

He grips even as the other tries to force him away, cyan and lemon hues dancing across a face that is far more broken than he remembers.

But he remembers that face.

He loves that face.

“Sans…” The tone is sharp but Sans beams anyway. He is trembling, sniffling, and he sees nothing of Gaster but a white blur yet… he pushes closer, struggles to pull Gaster against his chest.

“ _i’m not letting you go. we’re getting out of here.”_

Sans doesn’t make promises very often. He hates them but this is one promise he will keep if it kills him.

-

“do you remember me?” He fidgets with the string of his hoodie as his back rests against the tree trunk, pressing a palm against his aching eye. He can’t stand even if he wanted to but he watches the other turn slowly in the snow, eye sockets open wide.

There’s a beat of silence.

Sans shivers. He’s not cold but there’s a coil of uncertainty crushing his soul and if Gaster doesn’t remember then…

Sans’ shoulders hunch, body curling inward as if preparing for a blow.

_why would Gaster remember? no one else truly does but…_

The dark spiral his thought is starting to become derails at the forceful slap against his cheek. Sans rears back in shock and stares at Gaster’s heaving shoulders and finally registers his choked, suppressed sobs.

“Of course I remember you! And don’t you ever, _ever, **ever...”**_  There’s arms surrounding him and he’s being crushed and his cheek is smarting but Sans doesn’t care and he howls with mirth and he’s crying

and Gaster’s tittering and weeping and he’s present and he remembers

and…

and…

“…ever again, you- you bonehead!” Gaster finishes weakly and his head in buried in Sans’ shoulder and Sans’ hands are fists against his shoulder blades. They are giggling and hiccupping through their tears but for once-

Sans is okay.

He still remembers and the human will still come but he’s okay.

Gaster remembers, too.


	25. -Sometimes Kindness is Enough-(Papyrus/Chara)(R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara and Frisk fall together and while Chara does not kill every monster...those they do kill do not affect them (that much) until...  
> They kill Papyrus. Fear or not... It tears them up.  
> -Alternate Universe-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Papyrus/Chara like...you have NO idea. This is from a Timeline/AU that I thought of while writing this. :/ Not sure if I'll expand on it but... I hope you like this regardless! <3  
> Precious, precious babes.  
> (If you want more context... I'll leave a note at the bottom.)

_There has to be a freedom to falling._

The thought drifts into their mind as they stare into the darkness below, cut and bruised feet skimming the edge. There are jars of sharp heat from their ripped toenails but Chara doesn’t flinch at the discomfort… they slide the small appendages of their right foot to curl around the edge.

It’s silent now. Even the landscape of their buzzing mind is blissfully blank.

_It would take a second. One breath._

There would be no more running…no need for cowering. The heavy lump of gnawing huger would be gone and the ripped, cracked beds of their nails would be but a distant memory. Chara’s fingers dance across the inflamed slash in their cheek.

_You can’t keep running forever. They’ll catch you._

Then what?

Chara eases their foot back, lowers themselves to their knees to creep closer to the hole, sliding across poking rocks and grating twigs to kneel above the abyss. Their knife was a solid, comforting weight as they leaned forward.

The air wafting through the fissure was stale but it was saturated by the soft scent of sweet musk. Particles of air danced within the sun’s rays and a watery chuckle clawed its way out of their throat- shoving across their unused vocal cords, shredding the stillness, polluting the beauty of the world.

_Useless. Worthless. Abomination._

It would be better to die by their own hand than to rely on other’s nonexistent _mercy._

Chara spreads their arms and pauses, quivering.

-

_They really should have been paying attention… perhaps they would have heard the ragged, rough inhales or the distant howls._

_Would it be any different if they had?_

_-_

Something crashed into them and they go tumbling with a shout.

The thing- no, worse, the other child- grabs onto them and Chara clings.

_Would it hurt to die?_

_-_

The snow is numbing their skin and distantly, Chara feels the resulting heat-trying-to-become-agony but they just sit.

Their gaze is fixed on the splash of red on the ground and the wailing in the wind.

It takes Frisk burying their face into the nape of Chara’s neck and an arm crushing their torso to realize that it’s their screams swirling in the air. They realize their dust-covered hand is outstretched, reaching toward the remnants of the towering monster with boisterous laugh that had stood before them.

_…Can you feel your soul shred?_

Chara clutches the front of their sweater and presses the heels of their hands into their eyes. They can still see the glint of their blade beside the scarf. Their knees are trembling and their heart still hammers blood through their ears and they can barely breathe…

_I didn’t—_

_He was—_

_I was scared and I—_

“Sorry…sorry…sorry…” Chara is repeating over and over but Frisk doesn’t think they realize it. Frisk squeezes their companion tighter as they watch the dust join the wind and clog up their throat.

“Please, Frisk…Let’s go back. Please…please…please…”

Frisk sniffles but shakes their head.

They would both have to die to go back.

-

_There’s a muted distress in Chara’s eyes but they don’t mention Papyrus again._

_Frisk worries their lip as Chara passes yet another save point with a brief flick of their eyes._

_Frisk pauses by the twinkling mass for a moment, brushing the petals of the echo flower beside it before shooting a small smile at the monster beside it._

_They turn away._

_-_

Sans corners Chara in the kitchen and they flash a smile full of teeth at the bonehead.

_Why is he being so weird?_

“…we need to talk, kid.” Sans sighs heavily, pushing his hands into his pockets. Chara’s face lacks the chubbiness of their childhood days but still sports a slight hint of rose on the apples, their eyes have grown soft- affection seeming to round them out and sentiment glowing from the depths, and Sans remembers the runt that had stumbled into his hall so many years ago.

Chara’s arms cross across their middle, ruby irises flicking across his face warily.

“when are you going to tell my bro you’re in love with him?”

Sans dodges the plate easily as Chara splutters.

-

_Chara hasn’t lifted their knife since Snowdin._

_Frisk closes their eyes and prepares for the sizzling current of Undyne’s spear. There’s no way they can dive out of the way!_

_Goose bumps dance across their skin but there is just a weary tiredness weighing them down and the tight ache straining their muscles. There is...no pain. No shock of arcing magic cracking their bones or flaying them open._

_They open one emerald eye and yelp._

_Chara is sprawled on the damp dirt with a smile as their soul twists in the air._

_Frisk drops to their knees, fingers scrabbling along the crimson streaked sweater._

_There’s a starburst of agony and then…nothing._

_-_

“Sans, it’s okay. Really, bonehead.” Chara reassures Sans as they watch Papyrus tuck a strand of aqua hair behind the blushing girl’s face.

Sans watches the tears sliding down their skin and inhales.

“…you know…”

“Don’t. Interfere.” Chara snarls at him, smearing the evidence of their pain away with a harsh swipe of the back of their hand. “…if he’s happy, I can live with it.”

_Can you?_

_-_

They are back in Snowdin, blinking up into grey skies and flat on their backs outside of the Inn.

Chara smiles.

-

_“The newest member…of the Royal Guard!”_ Papyrus' declaration has Chara’s kness buckling and they fall on their rear with the pressure of their relief laying solidly on their chest. They twitter softly then dissolve into full body quaking guffaws.

Their laughter dissolves into genuine high-pitched sobs. Frisk moves to block them from Papyrus’ blue bones that pass through them and Papyrus’ responding unsure “Nyeh?” makes them cry harder.

They can barely breathe against the weight on their chest and Frisk’s knees are knocking together with the effort to fight the gravity forced against them.

Papyrus seems to think for a moment before opening his arms.

“I…I think we can fight later, humans. It seems that you two are tired. Perhaps a rest before our battle?”

_Will you accept his mercy?_

“Papyrus is sparing us.” Frisk whispers as the skeleton waits.

A memory of Toriel’s drained smile rises to the forefront of Chara’s mind and they push themselves to their feet, rushing headlong into Papyrus’ arms.

An invisible choice floats unbeknownst to Papyrus as a red cracked soul chooses _Mercy._ The second red soul follows and Frisk clings to Papyrus’ leg as he holds Chara, shushing them gently.

-

“Y-you’re beautiful, Chara.” Papyrus stutters, cheeks dusted marmalade. “Y-y-you’re amazing…my first friend…my best friend…and…and…”

Chara’s eyes are glittering with something deep and pain-filled as he speaks and Papyrus takes a breath, clearing his throat.

“I, Papyrus, will go on a date with you…?” He bellows confidently and his voice grows quieter as he continues, insecurity creeping in.

Chara howls with mirth and Papyrus scoops them into his arms.

“That’s not a question, Pap! But…yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this Timeline, Frisk and Chara fall together. They are abused by the people of their villages and escape but they are being hunted.  
> They are NOT the first humans to fall... they are the third and fourth.  
> The first human (Patience soul) died from infection and Asriel went to the surface with Toriel using the first soul. Asriel accidentally absorbs it and is killed but his dying words to Toriel are not to hold it against the humans. She honors his word but is more distant to the humans that have come through the ruins.  
> The second is to fall is Justice. Asgore kills them and DT experiments ensue- Flowey is created.  
> In this run, Frisk and Chara are LV2 and then there are flashes after their Pacifist route.


	26. -Defender-(Dogamy/Dogaressa)(R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dogaressa and Dogamy escort Frisk to school. He is reminded of long ago.  
> -PTA! Universe-

He watches her.

It’s nothing new as he has always loved to catch the moments where she is caught unawares- that split second of her ears perking up when the first snow of the day lands on her nose, the way she lowers herself to all fours elegantly to press her chest to the ground- tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth as she barks at the excitable floof of the tiniest dog monster Papyrus has deemed the “meddling canine”, or the way his Dogaressa quietly closes her eyes after a long shift in their den.

It’s nothing different.

He’s always been the quiet sort, a bit more withdrawn, content to just observe and notice the arcing social dances that others’ engage in. She’s always been the more apt to spring into action- grabbing his axe as well as hers to assist Undyne, easier to connect with- gaining the trust and obedience of the other members of the Guard, and more compassionate…he feels the gentle pulse of her magic as Dogaressa leans to nuzzle the human pup to send them off to school.

(Sans had asked them to escort Frisk for reasons Dogamy couldn’t puzzle out. The short skeleton had smelled of bones, ketchup, sweetened butter and cinnamon, and mischief.)

He remembers that small cowering puppy from so long ago. Dogaressa would wedge herself behind shelves and flick her ears back when anyone approached, snarling.

Dogamy watches as Frisk shakes their head, clutching onto his wife’s sleeve tightly and his mind supplies a high-ptched whine and the scrapes of desperate, retreating back claws of those early days. Their hands are jerking and waving too fast for him to translate but fear- sharp and repugnant stings his nose and Dogamy moves closer to both of them, shielding his wife’s flank.

He knows Dogaressa can smell it too. Her tail stiffens behind her rigidly but she keeps her ears relaxed as she murmurs, “Human pup, slow down. Alright, little one- tell me again.”

Frisk’s hands stills and they take a breath when a human with light yellow fur pauses and sneers-

“You _should_ be teaching them to speak. It’s no wonder they can’t,” Dogamy fur prickles as Dogaressa’s scruff rises out of the corner of his eye. The human continues, “being raised by monsters.”

Frisk has retreated against Dogaressa’s chest and her arms encircle the pup tightly. Dogamy catches the flash of teeth that she fights to conceal and he pauses.

He’s always been more adept at countering verbal aggression.

“Excuse me?” The human words are gruff with a growl because even though he speaks it more frequently since befriending the human pup…it’s still difficult. “They are speaking and it is impolite to interrupt. Didn’t anyone teach you that?”

The human’s eyes widen and she takes a step back before opening her mouth.

“You would do well to not speak those things, especially since you appear to be a teacher.” Dogamy’s nose twitches and the chemical harshness of ink, irritating chalkiness, and soy milk assault his senses. “I’m sure that Ms. Dreemur and Sans will not appreciate that.”

At the mention of Sans, the human’s eye twitches but she moves to regain the lost distance.

“Do not come any closer to my wife or the human pup.” Dogamy warns in a calm cadence and he moves to kneel and lick Frisk’s cheek. “Do you mind us accompanying you today, pup?”

“I will have to call your mother and speak with the principle.” Dogaressa jumps in to finish his thought and he nuzzles her cheek with his nose. “We will not leave you if that is not what you want.” She catches his eye.

_“You don’t seem to want to be alone.” He tells her as he lays flat on his belly, tail swishing slowly._

_Dogaressa growls but it is weak and carries a whimper._

_“If you don’t want to be, I won’t leave you.”_

_“I…I’m…scared…”_

_“It’s okay. Come to me when you’re ready.”_

Frisk’s answering laugh and the ghostly memory of Dogaressa’s timid smile melt his soul.

It’s nothing out of the ordinary but…

He won’t leave a frightened beautiful souled creature alone.

Ever.

Dogamy lifts Frisk into his arms and they cling to him.

It's how he has gained the friends he now calls his family and the hot dog that is the love of his life. 

-

_Sans heaves a sigh of relief as Linda stomps away from the Dogi with a frustrated hoist of her shoulders._

_He hides a wide grin behind his hand as he takes a step through a shortcut._

_He couldn’t be everywhere but Frisk always had someone willing to step in their corner._


	27. -My Best Friend-(Chara/Asriel)(P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asriel wants to know what has happened to Chara,  
> -Undertale Timeline: Post Pacifist, DRUNK CHARA UNIVERSE-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Drunk Chara universe was created by hawker-rawr.tumblr.com/ and the ask blog/universe's main blog is ask-drunk-chara.tumblr.com/ Go there for the main story! <3  
> This piece is platonic because it is canon compliant to the comic.  
> I'm trying a new tense situation (First Person, oh how I hate you.) so it may be a bit clunky at first. This is told from Asriel's POV.  
> It's worth to note: I headcanon that having an artifical soul has its problems. That's why it is referenced. It is not canon to ADC.  
> Thank you for kudos/comments! They are appreciate and help keep me motivated. :D

I can hear you’re stomping around without a care in the world and I have a brief moment of pure, unfiltered anger crawling through my soul before it dulls.

It’s a good thing that Frisk is out of town with their conference…

I should probably get up.

It takes a lot more effort than it should to flip the covers back and stand but I do. I open the door and you’re standing there, grinning widely. You smell of spice and apples… it is tainted by the burning in my nose.

I hate you.

I really, really do.

“Chara,” I take a step towards you and you stumble back. I should be used to this but I’ve always wondered: _since when have you been a coward?_ You always seemed so strong when we were younger- always ready to yell at Froggits that tried to rush us. _What happened to you?_  “Chara, really?”

You even tussled with Undyne.

“H-hey Azzieee.” You can’t even speak but you are on alert, swaying as you shift side to side. You are looking to flee, aren’t you? You aren’t looking at me- I can tell- but you are keeping track of my hands. I can’t help the bile clawing up my throat.

Just like I can’t help the words.

“Do you even care?” This. We’ve done this numerous times. You always clutch the necklace I gave you and stammer some kind of excuse, sometimes you cry, and sometimes…

“I need it.” Your voice is so low that I can barely hear and for a silent, agonizing moment- I fear that I will find that I am a flower because I feel my _fake_ soul stutter for a moment. I feel… _exhausted._ My eyes are stinging from it but my chest is hollow.

You are watching my hands.

You aren’t watching _me._

It’s satisfying the way you cry out as I tackle you. My heart shreds a bit as you throw your hands up as I grab fistfuls of your hoodie.

Why are you so scared of me?

I want to hit you.

“Asriel- _please.”_  You are digging your nails into my hands but the alcohol is making you clumsy, grip sliding and falling. Chara, you’re eyes are so wide, wild. I can see the tears starting to gather.

You struggle harder.

_What happened to you, Chara?_

_Why won’t you **talk** to me?_

“No.” You don’t get to run away. I won’t let you this time. This isn’t about just about your drinking anymore. This isn’t about the responsibilities you have declined. This isn’t about how Frisk has been holding your hair while you retch.

This isn’t about anyone but you and me.

“What happened to my best friend?” I am fighting the pulses of my restored magic. Forgiveness is already starting to thrum through my being but I’m not ready to let this dark fire go. “When did you…”

You have never let me finish and the familiarity brings relief, heavy and cooling.

“Since…” You are biting your lip and try to tear your gaze away but it seems you can’t. The tightness around your eyes smooths and I shake.

_“No!” You are squeezing me so tight. Happiness is starting to bubble from my soul and I can’t help but giggle._

_You look so cute- lips pushed out in a pout, eyebrows scrunched as Dad tilts his head. The little bunny monster I was chasing blinked at you. She had grabbed my arm and cried, “You’re it!” before we had been on the floor in hysterics._

_You had drug me into a hug._

_“Asriel is my best friend! You can’t have him!”_

_“Chara!” Dad laughs._

“You died, Az.” You have given up and I’m not restraining you so much as holding you up. “You died because of some _idiotic_ plan that I was hoping would work!” I can’t help the twist of my mouth at the phantom pulsing of bruises on my back.

That wasn’t your fault. I had agreed to go with it.

“When you died…” You’re hands shoot up and start waving as you continue, voice rising in your moment of lost control. Your volume was an indicator of just how much your walls had fallen... You were usually quiet nowadays… mind wandering away and going to where Frisk nor I could follow. The sheer _loudness_ you are showing reassures me that you’re still here. That determination still flows in your veins. “I was gone but Frisk came and…I stood by and **watched** and **did nothing** and I was so **_angry_** and **and _AND…_** ”

You are throwing your head side to side, fingers clawing into the stands of your hair. I can’t help but pull you into my arms and a single high wail rips from you then you are sobbing, shrinking into yourself. I am hugging you with everything that I can give of my imperfect soul.

I’m surrounding you in my magic. It’s restless and curls in rainbow sparks, desperate to protect you from a tangible enemy.

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know how to ease the darkness that swirls in your mind…in your _soul._

I don’t know.

All I'm sure of is...

I know you are still my best friend.

“Drinking is not helping, Chara…”

_The alcohol can’t have you._

“I know…” You answer. You don’t say you will stop or reassure me that you will be fine after a night’s rest and you take the biggest laboring breath. You are still crying. “I love you, bestie.” The corner you lip lifts, twitches and falls at the attempt at humor as it falls flat.

You sigh. "I really do, Azzie. Love you."

I don’t smile but I crush my arms a bit more forcefully around you.

“I love you, too, Chara.  
Best Friends forever, remember?”


	28. -I Won't Say I'm in Love-(Gaster/Asgore)(R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly- the King can take care of everyone BUT himself.  
> -Pre UT Timeline: THE DEDICATED SCIENTIST UNIVERSE-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KingDings! <3 I absolutely squeal over this ship.  
> This chapter is based on paranoart.tumblr.com/ Dedicated Scientist universe. The main askblog is thededicatedscientist.tumblr.com/  
> Go enjoy their amazing art and comic!

He _clearly_ doesn’t know how to take care of himself. Honestly, the King of Monsterkind takes care of everyone  _ **BUT**_ **himself.**

Gaster pinches the bridge of his nasal bone as he grumbled, opening cupboards and shutting them rapidly in quick succession as he searched for what he needed. The counter was littered with various ingredients- the sharp and slight burning of the leafy stalks Asgore favored wafted around him, round tomatoes resting serenely (he chuckled to himself. They were safe from Papyrus…enthusiastic preparation methods.), and many more.

“If you’re looking for the pots and pans… they are in the right cabinet,” The weak rasp came from behind him and Gaster ignored the heat rising to the surface of his cheek bones as he straightened quickly. “On the top most shelf.”

“…I knew that.” Gaster asserted half-heartedly, waving his hand. “I was just…”

Gaster’s eyes darted to Asgore’s bulky frame leaning against the wall heavily. His mouth tugged down in a deep frown as he took in his majesty’s wobbling knees, the way his fur was slick with sweat and unruly, and the slight wheeze on every exhale.

_Honestly. You would think he would take better care of himself._

“You should not be out of bed.” Gaster reprimanded sternly, striding forward with purpose. “To bed with you. I didn’t come all this way—“

“You didn’t come all this way to take care of me.” The sentence was muttered so softly that Gaster barely caught it and his approached slowed. Asgore’s mismatched eyes held that ever present sadness and bottomless pain as he continued. “Why don’t you tell me about the Core? You brought a report, right?”

Gaster’s eyes flicked to the abandoned clipboard flung carelessly on the table.

It had been his _original_ intention to deliver the routine progress report to Asgore but when he had heard the other was sick…

He clutched the lab coat covering his arm for a brief moment before taking a deep breath and straightening his glasses.

“Well, I guess I will have to be your personal attendant for the time being.”

There was a beat of silence as Asgore tilted his head. Gaster crossed his arm across his chest, acutely aware of the blue dusting his cheeks. The King seemed stunned into silence before—

“Wha…?”

“I-I mean it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Gaster fumbled for a moment, turning to the table and swiping the report off of it quickly. “I will be your personal attendant for the day! I am much better suited to…” Gaster trailed off as he realized he had been waving his hands wildly.

Asgore gave a hearty rumble before dissolving into a body quaking cough.

“If you insist, my friend. It has been a while since you have visited.” Gaster could hear the warmth saturating the words and he took a measured inhale. He jumped as a clawed hand landed on his shoulder, sputtering in surprise. “So what shall we do?”

_There was a heavy, ominous feeling here._

_Asgore stood by the newly added casket with a hand resting on the smooth surface, tremors radiating through his still stained fingers._

_Gaster hated the room that seemed to press closer. Gaster hated the coffins._

_What he hated the most though…_

_Asgore lowered his head and clutched his fists. His sobs were muffled but the falling of his trident was not._

_Gaster wanted to take away that pain…the burden that was weighing down those shoulders and the tragedies shimmering in gold and azure._

_He would do…_

“Anything.” Gaster murmured to himself absently.

“Pardon?” Asgore questioned and Gaster crashed back to the present, suddenly aware of just how heavy his majesty was.

“You are going to bed while I make you something to eat.” Gaster huffed haughtily as he wrapped an arm around Asgore’s waist. “You can barely stand! You need to take care of yourself!”

_I’ll watch over you._

Asgore didn’t resist as Gaster pulled him along, leaning even more into his Royal Scientist’s side. “Is that what I’m doing?” He teased weakly.

_I’m going to find a way to see you smile again._

“Yes. We can chat later. _After_ you sleep. I will make you a magnificent meal, sire." 

_I will._

The skeleton misses the wobbly, tiny smile the King is sporting.

It isn’t as big as it once was nor very bright but it’s the smoldering of embers laying dormant under mountains of ashes for a long, long time.

A spark.

That necessary spark.

That necessary and precious spark.


	29. -Star Light, Star Bright-(Papyrus/Sans)(P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five Times Sans carries Papyrus (and one where he is carried)  
> -UT Timeline-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This piece is ambiguous and can be read either as platonic or (if you choose) romantic but I'm marking it platonic because I had my sisters in mind. That's all.

You don’t remember the first time that you carried him.

It’s a fact that makes your soul heavy and spasm painfully when you think about it so...you don’t.

Instead, you remember rushing through the end of the world as you knew it. The screeching of metal crashing against metal, fried ozone, and waves upon waves of magic drenched in the salty tang of fear surrounds you and for a precious second- you are overwhelmed before your feet respond the way you need them to.

You are refusing to look back as you dart between falling soul power and armor clad human’s reaching to grab you.

Papyrus’ face is buried into your cervical vertebrae, hot tears sliding down the surface as he sobs.

“pap. don’t look up.” You tell him breathlessly, whipping your head around.

You don’t remember what you had been searching for…only that you had been looking.

Papyrus whimpers, fingers twisting in the fabric of your shirt.

You wouldn’t let anyone get him. You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t.

You couldn’t let him down.

“Sa-hn…?” His voice is high and unsteady. You feel his head start to rise.

“ ** _Don’t.”_**  You hiss and he shoves his head against you once again.

It isn’t the first time you carry him but it is the first time that your eye erupts into a painful burst of cyan flames.

-

Many, many more times after that night… you lift Papyrus. This time, he’s laughing.

You let him bap your head. It doesn’t hurt but it is a distraction as you scan the area warily.

You have only a few coins of G sitting heavy in your pocket and you wanted to give him this moment of childish delight. No worrying about sharing, no running from angry merchants, no...

Your soul squeezes from its place behind your sternum and you hold out your left hand, watching the phantom box that appears to float above your palm.

Point five, huh?

You’ll be fine. Another couple of days won’t kill you.

“Sans! Sans! Sans!” Papyrus trills excitedly, waving at the tall red furred bunny monster huddled in a thick red scarf.

“i see them, bud.” You huff but it’s an exhalation of the affectionate annoyance that comes with having your skull smacked for an indefinite amount of time. “go on then.” You reach behind you but Papyrus pushes closer, opting to wiggle against you impatiently.

“uh…” You aren’t sure what to do and Papyrus leans even more heavily against your spine.

“Come on, Sans!” He grumbles and you blink as you realize: he’s afraid to venture to the other monsters alone.

“alright.” You reply, jumping to get him to sit higher on a more comfortable spot on you. “but you’re ordering for yourself. should be _snow_ problem.”

“Sans!”

-

Papyrus has his hands curled against your shoulders, fingers tightening and loosening with each step.

His sniffling is muffled by his gloves as you stagger under his weight, trying not to jostle his right leg where a jagged fissure cuts through the tibia, crimson dripping in the expanse of damp dirt crunching under your feet. You glare at the dull twinkling of the crystals overhead.

You have always loathed them for being inadequate replacements but in this moment…you _hate_ them.

Papyrus stretches, fingertips reaching out and slicing through the air.

It’s a sight that turns your stomach.

“I-I was just trying to…” Papyrus babbles and his sniffles dissolve into low wails before he can finish. “I-I was just trying to touch the stars…”

You say nothing.

Papyrus wraps his arms around your neck and hugs you loosely. “I-I’m sor-r-rry.”

You sigh. “it’s okay, pap. really. let me get you home and we can watch Mettaton while i patch you up.”

Papyrus cries harder.

( _It is this moment that your mind goes to the second the blade catches you off-guard. The dust invading your senses is damp with their sweat…the knife gleams in the light of the hall…your stomach free falls…all that is missing is…_

_You turn your magic red.)_

-

_You cradle the cape in your cupped hands gently as you kneel, eyesockets overflowing with the tears that you try to keep at bay._

_You scrape what remains of his dust in the bright fabric blindly._

_You sit on the ground and stare at nothing before blinking to clear your vision, feeling the wetness trickle down your cheek as you blip out of existence…_

_To reappear in his room. Your hands shake as you spread your brother’s ( **you were his brother! why weren’t you there?! You-you-**_ ) _dust on the racecar bed he adored and sprinkle some across the action figures still arranged in a mock battle._

_Gravity weighs on you and you drop to your knees, relishing the pain radiating up your arm as you slam your balled fist into the floor._

**_(You carried him home but it will never be enough. Because you should have stopped it.)_ **

**_-_ **

He’s howling in displeasure and you are tittering with the bubbles of joy rising in your soul.

He’s on your back, knees slamming against your cranium repeatedly. It is disorienting you slightly but you ignore the slight dizziness and soldier on. Your eye glows and you catch a slight ghost of an image of your brother’s blue soul.

You wouldn’t be able to carry him otherwise with how much he weighs.

Papyrus grumbles but stops his erratic jerking, huffing.

Frisk giggles beside you and you wink at them.

“see, kiddo? he may not be a baby bones anymore but he’ll _always_ be _my_ baby brother.”

You stumble under the playful smack and laugh again. 

Papyrus is so fun to rile up.

-

Papyrus stands, clutching the blue hoodie closer against his frame against the chill in the wind. Frisk stands with their hands against his femur and Undyne has her arm wrapped around his neck as he holds the small wooden box he has placed Sans dust in. His eyes are settled on the dark blanket of the night sky with the bright flickering jewels embedded in its fabric.

Yet, his brain comprehends none of its beauty. His eyes see nothing.

Sans would have been surprised but he would have showed him the constellations again. His grin stretched wide as he explained about the amazingness of space, hands gesturing in relaxed, fluid movements and-

Papyrus tears his gaze away, swallowing thickly. He clutches Sans closer to his middle.

Alphys is making the final adjustments on the telescope, peering into the eye piece as Mettaton stands beside her, watching the sky as Papyrus had been.

Toriel is sitting on the edge of the cliff, feet dangling over the edge. The waves are lapping below her peacefully and while her gaze is focused on the ebb and flow of the water below her... her eyes are blank, unfocused.

Papyrus hugs the box tighter for a moment before stepping out of the warmth of Frisk's and Undyne's gestures of comfort to approach Toriel.

She adored his brother almost as much as he did. Almost.

He opens the lid quietly and passes her a small bracelet- yellow and red colored ropes woven around a small white heart. It is covered in a light layer dust. Papyrus had thought that Sans might want a tangible piece of him to remain with the ones he had loved...a least for a little while.

“Sans…” He can barely speak through the lump in his throat. “Sans…loved us. I figured he would want…”

Papyrus stops. Maybe it was too morbid...He should have thought of a better idea...

Maybe Sans could hel...

Sans.

He was gone.

“Oh, Papyrus.” Toriel murmurs as she pulls him into a tight embrace. “I’m so…”

“C-Can you help me carry him?” Papyrus is whispering as he clutches her arms, tears already starting to fall. “I think h-he was always afraid of being forgotten…”

Toriel doesn’t speak as he cries but gathers a bit of dust and sprinkles it over Papyrus. She sees the various bracelets in their rainbow of colors and knows the solid red one must be his…

But…

She figures Sans would rather rest on his brother and comfort him.

-

**_thanks, tori. this is the closest i can get to hugging him._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Day 29 out of 30 on the list. The last one is the Free Ship Day but I have a couple more chapters in mind.


	30. REWRITE/REQUEST: -Tomorrow Can Wait-(Sans/Alphys)(R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans and Alphys get ready for a movie night.  
> -UT Timeline-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long long looooong while back, an anon appeared in my inbox to point out my Sans/Alphys drabble wasn't really Sans/Alphys centered (True) so I said I would do a re-write.  
> This is that re-write. This takes place in the same timeline as "Missing Puzzle Piece" so Sans, Al, Pap, and Undyne are all together.  
> I hope you enjoy. <3 Thank you for reading/commenting/kudoing!

Papyrus warned her that Sans had been a bit…off the last couple of days.

Undyne had expressed her concern as well (in her passionate way- gnashing teeth, clenched fists, and an averted gaze) and Alphys had reassured them both that it was just work.

She wasn’t so sure anymore.

“A-are you o-okay, Sansy?”

Sans gave her a tender smile, chin resting in his hand as she settled beside him with the popcorn in her claws. She gave him a toothy grin in return, shivering slightly. It wasn't all nerves... the air in Snowdin was frigid. She missed the blistering heat of Hotland when she visited but spending time with her silly skeletons was worth the discomfort. Her body wasn't as adept at keeping a stable body temperature like other monsters. Especially in cooler climates...

"Hold on." Sans muttered as he stood slowly, arching his spine. She could hear the resulting pops and tapped the bowl uncertainly before she opened her mouth:

"Has your e-eye been bo-bothering you? You seem to be t-touching it a lot..."

Sans’ eyelights shifted to her as he lowered his arms. “I’m fine, Al. I've been rubbing both of my eyes more because I'm _bone tired..."_ He trailed off, seemingly lost in his own head for a moment. His fingers twitched at his side, Alphys noted, before he made his way to the table where the pet rock rested. "Gaster has been running me ragged with trying to draw determination from the bravery and justice samples…” 

“R-really? He won’t even let me go into the area with the soul samples…” Alphys murmured, sighing.

_Maybe it is work. Sans isn't used to the work load of an assitant scientist just yet...but why is Gaster just relying on him? I could help, too. Does the doctor not want me to?_

Alphys gave an undignified squeak as a sudden warmth enveloped her, snapping her out of her thoughts abruptly. She wrestled the popped kernels from their blanket prison and set them on the table beside the jokebook so she could kick the fabric until it covered her feet.

_Much better._

Sans’ deep rumbles made her soul stutter for a moment and as he leaned down to press his teeth against her cheek, she would have sworn it stopped. “You are a- _dork_ -able, Al.”

Alphys brought her hands to cover her face as her scales warmed. “Sans!”

“Alright, alright.” He brushed another skeleton kiss against her temple before returning to his previous spot, slouching against the arm of the couch. His shoulders stiffened as he inhaled deeply. “But…seriously. You don’t need to worry. About me. Or..." He patted her shoulder, eyes softening. "You. You are a great scientist, Al."

She blinked at the unexpected compliment before bending down to pull their snack back into her lap. There was a knot tightening in her stomach but she stayed silent. Sans wouldn’t lie to her, she knew but…

What if he was wrong? What if she wasn’t smart enough? What if Gaster didn’t agree? What if…

Sans smoothed a hand over the small green bow on her headband and she jumped, once again startling back into reality.

“Sor…” She began to apologize but Sans shook his head. The corners of his grin twitched in a silent show of his amusement.

“If Gaster doesn’t agree then he’s missing out.” Sans declared confidently and Alphys leaned into the phalanges that had come to curl around her chin.

“D-do you really think so?” _How could he always guess what I’m thinking?_

“I know so.” Sans replied before he yawned, pulling away to cover his mouth. “Now…what are we watching tonight?”

“Mew Mew Kissie Cutie!” Alphys squealed and clapped her hands excitedly. Sans nodded groggily.

_We’re probably worrying for nothing. He’s just tired. He just needs to get used to the difference in demands. He is a lazy bones after all._

Alphys snickered quietly to herself as said lazy bones closed his eyes.

She would just enjoy the moment- wrapped in a heated blanket with one of her loves, comforted by the knowledge he believed in her.

And if the time ever came that he needed her...

She would be there.


	31. REQUEST: -Unfinished Symphony-(Grillby/Gaster)(R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaster has returned to the world he once knew but Grillby doesn't remember him and the memories of the past are heavy on his soul. Why did he let Sans convince him to play at this place again?  
> -UT Timeline-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. This was requested by a lovely anon on here. <3 This is following the same timeline as "Only in our Dreams Do We Meet" so yeah...  
> Enjoy!

He takes a deep breath and twists the ring on his finger slowly…haltingly.

He was back in this world- the snow shifting unsteadily under his feet, wind whistling and cooling the knitted fabric of his turtleneck, the savory fumes of grease infiltrating his senses and resting on his tongue… but…

Those things ( _while missed and so, so important!...He knew that now_ ) didn’t compare to the man waiting inside of the bar.

His husband wouldn’t remember him and that fact weighed heavy on the former Royal Scientist’s shoulders.

_I could just turn around… There’s no need for this._

_He doesn’t know me._

_Not anymore._

Gaster’s fingers flexed against his leg in precise, lighting quick motions in a pattern indiscernible to anyone that might be watching him except the shorter skeleton who had been standing quietly beside him until now.

Sans gives him a nudge and Gaster's eyes flick to see a reassuring grin twitch across the blue hooded skeleton's face. It does nothing to slow the magic starting to swirl and skip along his radius and ulna or the pounding of invisible keys. Sans’ trombone case rests on the ground beside his slippered feet and Gaster focuses on the indentation it leaves in the snow, trying to anchor his mind to something-  _anything_ \- but Grillby.

“c’mon, bro.” Sans drawled gently and Gaster is finally able to gasp for air, panting cutting through the air in a too quick to be comfortable tempo. “you would never forgive yourself if you don’t do this.” Gaster’s phalanges stilled their movement and curled around the fabric of his slacks. Sans’ breathing was slow and deep.

A practiced calm to act as a foil to his unexpected wildly out-of-control emotions.

_(Oh. How times have changed.)_

His nonexistent lungs still felt constricted and glued to his rib cage.

_Good thing I don't need to breathe._

“He doesn’t remember me, Sans.” Gaster’s usual careful cadence had come unraveled- rising and falling in a telltale symphony of his pain. “He…”

“no. he doesn’t.” Sans sighed softly in response before turning to place a hand on his shoulder. “but…trust me when i say…he’ll love you regardless.”

_Sans is weaving through the crowd easily, unhurried steps as he drags a flame elemental behind him with the Delta Rune crest displayed brightly on his uniform._

_There’s a violin clutched tightly in a hand made of dancing embers and Gaster smiles to himself._

**_A musician and a soldier? What an odd combination._ **

_When Sans reaches him, Gaster bends down to scoop him up in his arms as his kid brother goes limp against him with a contented hum._

_“g! i want you to meet mr. grillbz-“ Sans motions to the other monster who rubs the back of his neck sheepishly._

_“It’s Grillby-“ The soldier tries to correct the child but Sans grins and continues excitedly._

_“Grillbz can play the violin! I think you two should play together!”_

_Gaster blinks at the words before chuckling at Sans’ declaration. “Oh. I see.” He shifts Sans so he is facing his chest and his baby brother wiggles so he can stare over the top of his shoulder at the goings on of the banquet. “I apologize for him-“_

_“You play?” Grillby questions and Gaster can feel his cheekbones starting to warm._

_“I...play…piano. I haven’t though…in a while.”_

Gaster steps back abruptly as the door opens and his breath catches in his throat. Grillby still stood as a soldier would- straight backed, head held with a dignified jut of the chin but his gestures were softer somehow as he tilted his head at the sight of them and waved.

“You were making Doggo nervous.” Grillby explained, the crackling in his voice betraying his amusement. “The short bursts of movement and then none…”

“sorry, grillbz.” Sans smirked before gesturing to Gaster who quickly shuffled his hands behind his back to slip his wedding ring onto his pointer finger. “my brother gets stage fright.”

“...Brother?” Grillby echos incredulously, adjusting his glasses and Gaster can feel his gaze taking him in from head to toe. “I thought Papyrus…”

“I don’t visit much.” ( _I didn’t exist for a bit but I watched you every day.)_  The lie slips from his teeth with a bit of an effort but he manages a small, shaky smile as he extends his hand. “I’m Wing Ding Gaster. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Sans has told me about you.”

_There’s music brewing between them._

_His notes are exact and follow a reigned in crescendo as his fingers depress the white and black keys kissing his finger tips. He keeps his eyes closed as he plays… it helps him concentrate and to train the rhythm to flow the way it was meant to._

_Grillby has no restraint._

_His playing is erratic- rising and cresting before breaking into a diminuendo that is cut short into a sharp screech of the stings protesting against the press of the bow. Gaster squeezes his eyes even tighter at the noise but continues playing._

_Grillby is untamed- wrestling with the music- fighting, clawing, thrashing against it as if he could make it bend to his will._

_Gaster grinds his teeth._

“The pleasure is mine.” Grillby returns Gaster’s politeness with his own. “Though I can’t say the same…” For a moment, Grillby’s attention swings to Sans with a frown before returning to him. “Are you two playing tonight?”

_“This isn’t like playing the piano! These are lives!”_

_“Do you not think I know that?! A life for a life Grillby! We will never get out if we don’t get our hands dirty!”_

_“I am **not** supporting that sentiment ever again.”_

_“Grillby…”_

“yeah.” Sans jumps in as Gaster swallows through his too tight throat.

_I love you, Grillby. I’m sorry. I love you. I missed you. You were right._

_…It wasn’t worth you forgetting me._

“I look forward to it then.” Grillby’s tone is warm and he’s smiling, tiny black wisps rising from his mouth.

_I love you._

The words are churning in his soul and the shapes embed themselves painfully against his sternum but all he says instead is, “How about you? Do you play?”

Grillby pauses for a moment and Gaster watches as his gaze lifts to the hidden roof of the cave before he answers softly: “I used to play the violin. It’s been a while.”

_"Perhaps we could play together some day." Grillby mutters as his hand rests on the knob of the door._

_Gaster doesn't speak. He had decided to lock away the scores in his soul the moment Grillby made the decision to leave._

_A skeleton could not be a scientist and a musician._

_Just as a flame could not be a musician and a soldier._

_"...Perhaps not." He can hear the way Grillby's voice breaks as he twists the knob._

He can’t help but laugh. It’s a weak, pitiful rumble tinged with melancholy. “I’ve been there. Someday, you might change your mind."

_You changed mine. You changed me. You left me a heartbreaking unfinished symphony._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been in a bittersweet mood as of late (due to an anime I recently finished) so the whole concept of the death of a relationship gives way to the birth (or rebirth in this case) of a new one was appealing to me so it definitely has had some influence on this chapter.


	32. REQUEST: -Broken Bones and Buttercups: I know What's Best-(Papyrus/Flowey)(R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flowey hates comparisons but sometimes...  
> -Consent AU-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT.  
> I debated about marking this "S" but decided against it as it really isn't sexually charged. This is written for a shy lovely (who wishes to remain nameless) that came to be wanting some Papyrus/Flowey love (and who recommended this particular AU. A+. I like. You hit my weakness with the BDSM themes.)  
> IF THIS IS NOT YOUR SHIP AND IT SQUICKS YOU, SKIP IT.  
> Now that THAT is out of the way... In this chapter, Asriel was turned into Flowey as a young adult (18) and Papyrus is 20.  
> These are your WARNINGS: Suicidal thoughts, consensual masochism/sadism, buttercup poisoning, broken bones/dismembering.  
> The Original AU is by AnonJ and some others on AO3. Here is a link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7667662

Flowey _hates_ comparisons. Absolutely loathes them.

How can you compare two separate and multidimensional beings? You could hold two snowflakes in your hand (or on a vine, _whatever._ Does it fucking matter?) and if you can catch a glimpse of the intricate connections of the ice… you would see they are _different._

_“Asriel.” Toriel says quietly one day as she’s staring out the window of the kitchen. “Do—“_

_“I’m not Asriel.” Flowey spits vehemently, twisting his stem as he thrashes in the pot he is confined to. He wishes that he was outside…able to sink into the Earth and not hear this mindless dribble. “I’m not **your** son. Get that through your thick sk—“_

_Papyrus sets down the word scramble book he has been scribbling in softly, scrubbing his eyes briefly before standing. He has a small frown on his face but it isn’t directed at the golden flower watching him with a startled but seething gaze._

_Papyrus’ disapproval is aimed at the wide eyes of the goat monster who had spun around to face them._

_“Flowey.” Papyrus stretches the moniker out with care and a slow drawl. Flowey tilts his head at that but squawks when he is lifted against the bright orange shirt of the skeleton. “He’s Flowey, Miss Toriel.” Papyrus voice is low, calm and lacks the boisterous and bravado he is known for._

_Flowey knows this voice but Toriel can only nod in response to the intensity and melancholy of his words._

_“Of course.”_

Flowey would never stoop to that level of _stupidity_ but sometimes…he can’t help but think about how Chara and Papyrus are similar.

For lacking the resolve to actually carry out the violence in order to stand amongst the royal guard… Papyrus was stubborn when it came to putting on a show. His voice could carry across a noisy bustling street and he would smile warmly as scowling humans would approach, extending a hand easily.

_Flowey knew he suppressed the tremors that came with unexpected approaches in instances such as this…small humans throwing themselves against his legs with no warning and high pitched giggles._

_Papyrus always smiled- too big, too bright, too fake and accepted the undercurrent of fear. He was bending now and opening his arms._

_Flowey had no qualms about scaring the little brats away- brandishing his vines and exposing his demonic grin- and while Papyrus would scold him later…_

_He would always rest his cheek against his petals afterwards and whisper, “Thank you.”_

Chara…Chara would beam for Asriel as they were drug around the palace and to the meetings that they despised. Looking through his own eyes…Flowey could remember them sinking into the chair when Asgore would call on them but they would stand anyway with a tiny, gentle smile and let the words flow- hands gesturing in controlled movements for emphasis.

Flowey wondered how Asriel missed the muted urge to flee in their eyes.

Both of his best friends’… were pretenders but Flowey knew that Chara had their own quiet moments of selflessness…but Papyrus _was_ embodiment of kindness.

_(It was infuriating.)_

They weren’t interchangeable.

_Flowey feels the bone give way beneath his vine and watches Papyrus grind his teeth against the pain that was surely radiating through the split radius and ulna he was still holding. He can feel the smallest chunks of bone starting to dust and the rush of pleasure warms him._

_“I will hurt you.” Flowey’s cackle is squeaky with glee at the way Papyrus’ boots are scrabbling against the dirt, trying to get away- no doubt. He takes in the orange magic pooling in the skeleton’s eye sockets._

_He is taken aback by Papyrus’ watery laugh. “Go ahead. It doesn’t matter, right?” He is still trying to tug his fractured arm out of its prison and Flowey watches the two dislocated pieces grind against each other with each jerk._

**_Is he…? He surely doesn’t want more._ **

_Flowey snarls in disbelief, more vines erupting from the ground and wrapping around his prey securely._

_Papyrus didn’t flinch, giggling even more._

Flowey likes to break things and Asriel wanted to piece them together.

They are two distinct monsters.

_Chara doesn’t know that their sibling has found them curled behind the statue- the melody of the lullaby Asriel knows well enveloping him in a blanket of comfort and nostalgia before he opens his mouth to call out._

_He sees the knife and there’s so much red… it’s sliding down their flushed wrist and—_

_Chara takes a steadying breath and more red pours. They close their eyes and smile._

_“One more day. Make it through one more day…”_

_Asriel can feel his soul spasm in his chest but his feet carry him away slowly as Chara chuckles, tears sliding down their cheeks._

Papyrus and Chara both want( _-ed, Flowey corrects in his mind for the golden-brown eyed human from long ago.)_ to die. Chara wanted to escape the agony of being truly present, being doused and battered by the sea of their emotions…while being thrust into the important role as the “Angel of Hope”…the weight of the title suffocating them.

Papyrus…

_“You remember.” It isn’t so much of a question as an accusation. Papyrus is once again restrained but he isn’t wiggling anymore… eyes blank and glazed as his rib cage expands. His floating ribs have been ripped off, false ribs hanging on by a silver of collagen, and Flowey admires the jagged edges, criss crossing cracks, and crimson dripping from the depths of the other’s marrow._

_Papyrus’ breathing is labored and rapid._

_“Cobalt.” Papyrus rasps and while Flowey’s leaves itch with the desire to give him **exactly** what he’s asking for…_

_“You do, don’t you?” Flowey murmurs as he wraps a thicker, heavier bodied vine across Papyrus neck, slowly squeezing with each and every word._

_Papyrus whimpers, dislocated phalanges scraping against the restraint at his throat. “Flowey, please—“_

_“I just want to know wh—“_

_“Because I don’t matter! I’m just—“ Papyrus is clutching onto the appendage around his neck. “Just—insignificent. Unimportant. Disposable. Please—Cambridge.” Flowey frowned and slowly bent Papyrus’ neck back. He didn’t fight. “Cobalt. Flowey, please, please, **PL—“**_

_His voice cuts off as the vertebrae give way and disintegrate. Flowey just stares as Papyrus turns to dust and watches as his smile goes crooked and blissful._

_It takes him a few minutes to gather his breath and **[RESET]**_

Papyrus wanted to die because he didn’t see his importance.

Why did the people he cherished want to see themselves burn?...

_“Asriel.” Chara murmured and he can almost imagine the heat from their body seeping into what had been his (no. Not his.) fur. He can feel the ghost of  Asrie;'s desire to become the best king for the person beside him, sleepily nudging him to scoot over._

Chara had given Asriel the goal of being strong enough for two and Flowey a reason to survive after awakening…

_Papyrus is curled around his pot as he sleeps, breath hitching ever once in a while. His breath ghost overly Flowey’s stem and the flower keeps his eyes on the moon trying to peek through the drawn curtains._

_He isn’t thinking…his mind is just…lost in a comforting droning static of nonthoughts. Phrases and images floating across his consciousness before drifting away. He is relaxed and bobs without thought, humming an aimless tune when—_

_“I shouldn’t be alive.” The words are like the ghost that must be in Papyrus’ mind—heavy, pained, and carry a weight of truth. Flowey stops his movement before extending vines to push the blanket tighter around Papyrus’ sleeping form before it drapes across the tiny, multiple fragile bones of his wrist._

_Flowey wonders when he started crying_ _like Asriel did when Chara lay in their bed with raw, oozing bubbles around their lips._

_He wonders if maybe they are similar after all._

Chara loved Asriel but never met Flowey and while they gave him the will to remain after his creation…

Papyrus helped water the small part of his soul he had regained.

Papyrus loved Asriel, despite never meeting him but he loved Flowey, too. Even with his cruelty.

Especially for his cruelty.

Chara had only met and loved Asriel.

Really…there was no comparison.

Flowey would choose _orange_ over _navy_ for his favorite any day.

Asriel could keep Chara.

He has the best. He...loves the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Safewords used:  
> Cobalt- "I want you to kill me." (Generally by snapping of neck)  
> Cambridge- "I feel disgusting."  
> Mentioned:  
> Orange- "Keep going."  
> Navy- "Reset."  
> While Flowey and Papy have established safewords... They are playing by RACK standards rather than SSC (meaning heavy, heavy play). If you are thinking of engaging in BDSM, please do your research and be aware of the risks.


	33. -Something More-(Sans/Reader)(R)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have a quiet moment and of course- it gets ruined.  
> -Sailor Moon/UT Crossover-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is purely indulgent on my part so I'm claiming my Free Ship Day.  
> This is written in the Reader format but is based on an OC of mine so yeah. If you've been following my stories for a while, you know there's a SM/US crossover that I've dabbled in. One where the Six Souls are the Sailor Senshi and another...more indulgent universe. This is apart of that.  
> Oh, it's been a while. I'm loving it.  
> (And it wouldn't be a complete shipping list if we didn't throw in a little Sans/Reader.)  
> Sans teaches Monster Bio and Soul Sciences and Reader is in his both of his course. College FTW!

She’s gripping your hand hard enough that you are sure there will be little half-moon shapes left in your skin.

“Faye,” You grumble and shift so you bump her gently with your knee. “Relax, babe.”

She only squeezes harder and presses closer as your professor makes his way toward you before she turns and jumps, arms outstretched.

You really shouldn’t indulge her (or your mom will accuse you of spoiling her)…

But since when could you deny your little sister anything? Really. Truly.

_Ridiculous. You are so lucky I love you._

You bend down, lifting Faye easily and the little flecks of gold within her eyes seem to sparkle brighter with her tears. She sniffs and tangles her hand in your shirt.

_…I am spoiling her. Oh my god._

“i didn’t know you had a kid, kid.” The slow, calm dragging voice causes you straighten automatically and you feel your cheeks starting to heat up from…embarrassment? No…that’s not quite the right sentiment. You are feeling awkward for sure but that’s from the uncertainty you get whenever you begin a conversation.

Maybe you are just being overly self conscious today.

“I don’t.” You respond, shifting so your hip can support Faye easier. “This is my little sister.” You give her a tiny kiss on top of her head. “Faye, say hi.”

Faye is not having any of it you realize as she whips her head violently back and forth and you sigh before giving Sans an apologetic look. “She’s very shy. Sorry.”

He’s watching you with an unreadable expression, smile still in place but slightly more crooked than you’ve seen it before he waves his hand. “don’t worry about it. i’m sure she’ll come around.” You shoulders relax at the words and Faye watches warily as he bends his face down to her level. “hey there, baby bones. you don’t have to say hi but…” He pitches his voice in a mock whisper. “your sister sure is goofy, huh?”

“Hey!” You blurt out indignantly and Faye squeals with delight with the sudden movement of your muscles. “I am not!” You huff, wrestling the rising corners of your lips. “Right, Faye?” You coo and she seems to pause, tilting her and lifting her fingers to her chin.

She giggles and shakes her head.

“You wound me!” You laugh, tickling her with your free hand. “I’ll remember that, stinker.”

Sans’ laugh catches you by surprise. It’s…quiet and deep and _more_ somehow than the times you heard in lectures. It causes your lips to peel back and expose your teeth as you smile.

_Lecture._

“The test.” You say out loud. “I came by because I missed class and didn’t get my score. And… can I look at the answer key?”

Sans tilts his head before patting the pockets of his slacks and handing you a small brass key. You stare at it and twist it in your fingers for a moment before: “Uhhh…?”

“didn’t you say you wanted to see the answer _key?”_

_I should have fucking known. Damn it. Don’t laugh! Don’t do it. Do—_

You fail, giggles bubbling up from your stomach before escaping your lips and—

The beeping of your communicator catches your attention immediately and your moment of quiet amusement dies as you bend, silencing the device and pulling out your phone to slide your finger across it.

There’s already three messages.

_Need you now. –Alexis_

_Leave Faye with Mai.-Kawa_

_Now. –Sam_

You breath catches. You scoop up your bag and shoot Sans a forced smile. “Sorry. Maybe I can look at it later? I forgot I had a meeting for work.” The words come out a bit rushed but they sound genuine enough as you return his key. You're already starting to back away.

_I need to hurry._

“sure, kid.” Sans watches and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up at the scrutiny and Faye is reacting to your change in demeanor, whimpering lowly. You squeeze her gently and run your fingers through her soft hair reassuringly. “but…is something wrong?”

_Oh the usual. Youma. Senshi duties._

_Another battle._

_So, no-not really._

“No.” You say as your phone starts to buzz in your hand. “I’m just really late. Bye Professor!” You turn and scurry towards the door at the end of the hall offices. You can see Mai waiting, tapping her foot impatiently on the other side of the glass. Your arm slams into the little bar to open the door and as you squint into the sunlight, she takes Faye from your arms.

“He is distracting you from your duties.” She growls and Faye is crying softly now as she stretches her arms toward you. “You need to remember…”

“I _remember_ just fine.” You snap, heat starting to sing in your blood at the blatant accusation that you weren’t taking the _safety of the Earth **seriously enough. **_Your sister was scared and _sobbing_ and—

_You need to keep her safe. You need to leave her._

You grasp Faye’s hand and kiss the balled fist. “I’ll be right back. Be good for Mai, baby.” You rip the plain black hairtie holding you hair, ignoring the way it pulls until it rests in your hand. You stare at it a moment before handing it to Faye. She grabs it immediately. “I need this back.” Your voice has gone high with the playfulness you are trying to convey. “You can’t keep it.”

Mai is staring at you in disbelief as you stand. Faye is clutching onto the trinket tightly.

You start running, brooch in your hand.

You ignore the fact that the face of your skeleton professor making Faye laugh has you sprinting faster.

_“Dream Cosmic Power, Make UP!”_

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from my Tumblr: loveinthebones.


End file.
